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#and kenny is such a master at holding back tears
currymanganese · 8 months
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Here's another Sydcarmy song guys, 'Ajai Finale', it's used in Season 1 Episode 2 when Syd approaches Carmy with a business plan and COGS breakdown for revitalizing The Beef, which he brushes off initially. The spoken word intro of the song is not included in the episode, but it mentions a minor domestic dispute between the song's clothing obsessed protagonist (Carmy and his denim collection ring a bell anyone?) and his WIFE:
The full lyrics to the song are below, but the line that stood out to me most was,
"At my wife's business meeting and I'm showing them rap..." which plays as Syd enters the office with the COGS....
So.......This could just be me, but the next time the showrunners say Syd and Carmy are meant to be platonic I will just laugh and go about my day! 🥴
Lyrics from here:
[Intro Serengeti]
So at the Black Caucus Dinner, Dr. Mitchell is talking to Ajai about the reduction of drug costs, making it mandatory for federally qualified health centers to accept Medicaid
And then Ajai opens his phone and shows him the Doernbecher 8s,  and asks him, "Have you ever won a shoe lottery?"
Looks to his left and talks to Dr. MacKenzie also and asks him, has he ever won a shoe lottery?
Pro-shoppers guided by a website, Ajai is crazy to his wife. She knows that once a special ringer buzzes, Ajai is off. She knows there's no work emergency. She looks in the trunk in hope that the bags won't be there or a cedar closet in the basement
He holds up the entire line in security. Sprawls out his gown, and it won't fit inside the TSA body scanner. His wife, who's already at the gate, texts him his flight has left. She's furious, she's holding back tears. He texts "wa-wha-ha-jaaa-ha, did we put the extension poncho hanger in your bag or mine?"
Frustrated wife, kicking and banging on the master bathroom door, "Ajai, please honey, we're gonna be late, we're gonna miss the flight, you look fine, you look fine Ajai, you look fine, you look fine Ajai." "Uhhu," Ajai muffled through the bathroom door, "We have plenty of time, you don't need two hours for a domestic flight. Oh, who the heck is flying to Cleveland anyway?" Wife sighs, "He's such a weirdo." Twenty minutes later Ajai exits. "Oh sorry babe, I couldn't find my gloves. Uh, are you ready to go? Why are you crying?"
[Verse: Serengeti]
But I should be good
I see the Benetton green
They've been gone for minute
This collab is a dream
Grey Poupon had a thing
Eating meals in a car
It made you feel a certain way
When you held that jar
That's what I can achieve
I feel the same about drops
I feel a bit rare in the shoes and the watch
Or those Preston socks
Or that just don hat
At my wife's business meeting and I'm showing them rap
Question, "you seen this?"
Question, "you seen that?"
Cuz there's questions 'bout the culture that just ain't facts
Some people are cows and they sit and they graze
I'm like a hummingbird cause I'm simply amazed
We're all on earth just bidding our time
Some people like to read, some people like wine
Some people like both
I love my wife and my coat
Balenciaga trench angled words and my tote
I like to move to the rhythm cause I'm feeling engaged
If I chose a colorway, it'd be purple and sage
I like to chill on the yacht, talk to the people at drops
About the top ten cops they surprised that they got
Cause I got a spot
Number one on the list
It had to be the Abloh Five I thought that I missed
Cause I had alarms set
When I woke it was dead
That's the last time I sleep with my phone in my bed
So when I awoke, I put my hand in my fist
And I looked in the mirror, and said "you can do this"
In all of my years, I never wore those shoes
The Abloh 1s that had me confused
Cause I bought them online, but they never came
Store-side mix up and the address changed
And it wasn't my fault, and they settled me straight
Just a half size bigger; whoever got them felt great
And I think about that
If one day at the door
A delivery came and the Abloh 4
That I didn't expect
What the hell would I do?
Who even knows if
They knew the scope of the shoe?
So today I wore those
And take them outside
First time they hit the ground
So now they alive
And now I'm near the spot
6 blocks away
It's already gettin' a little crowded hours passed on drop day
I said to myself
"The fives will be mine"
Ones so bright
People sayin' they blind
I relaxed and I stop to get tea
Fella says "Yo, it's me"
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bullet-clubs-bitch · 8 months
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Babies
Summary: You find out you are pregnant with Kenny’s baby 
Word Count: 378
Main Masterlist                  Kenny Omega Masterlist
Gif from @juliahart
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When I found out I was pregnant I couldn't help the tears of joy that fell from my face. The past few days I just felt pregnant. I don’t know how to describe it other than I just knew I was pregnant before even taking the test. So here I was, sitting on the floor of the master bathroom in tears, staring at the two positive lines. I took the other test it came with just to make sure. When both tests came up as positive I couldn't wait to tell Kenny any longer. I found him in the kitchen making a snack when I snuck up behind him, wrapping my arms around his muscular back. He was quick to turn around and return my hug. Kenny was quick to notice my puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. “Are you ok honey?” He said, worried. “Have you been crying? What’s wrong? Is everything ok?” Kenny stated, worried, eyes searching my body for any visible injuries. “Everything is ok babe, great actually!” I exclaimed, trying not to start crying again.
I sat him on the couch explaining that we needed to have a talk. I sat on the couch staring into his eyes, I could see the worry in his eyes. Not knowing what to expect. Whenever someone starts a conversation with “We need to talk” most of the time it ends up bad. I told him to close his eyes and handed him the pregnancy tests. Once Kenny opened his eyes he was shocked. Not knowing what to say. I nervously searched his expressions and body language to try and read his reaction. He was mesmerized looking at the positive test in his hand. “Is this real?” He asked softly. “Yes” I responded back. “So, you are pregnant?” He asked, a bit confused. “Yeah, you're going to be a father!” As the words came out of my mouth I couldn't help the tears that returned. Just then he wrapped his arms around me. Holding me in a tight hug. “This is amazing Y/N” Kenny said in tears. “I love you Kenny”  “I love you too Y/N, I also love you little human” Kenny kissed the little creature in my stomach. “I can’t wait to meet you!”
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xtrafluffyteddy · 2 years
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Bombshell
Pairing: Eddie munson x reader, Steve harrington x reader, Billy hargrove x reader
Mentions: homophobia, comfort, I can’t think of anything else, cursing
This is part of the home for wayward souls series you can find the master list pinned to the top of the page
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It was a rare quiet day at the house, Eddie was on tour with the band, Billy was at work, max was at school, and Steve was relaxing on the couch having called out “sick” the truth was he just wanted some relaxation time without Kenny yelling at him.
As your preparing lunch the phone begins to ring “Stevie” you call from the kitchen “can you get that” followed by a “yeah I’m on it” from him as he hops up off the couch and picks up the phone holding it to his ear “Robin Robin slow down I can’t understand you” he said into the phone face turning worried then serious “Robin where are you I’ll come get you” you peaked your head out of the kitchen in confusion whispering “what’s wrong” only for Steve to hold up a finger as if to tell you give him a minute “okay Robin I’ll be there soon just- just stay where you are” he slammed down the phone and rushed to grab his jacket and keys frantic to get out of the door “wait what’s wrong!” You question only to be met with a wary look from Steve “it’s Robin” you completely understood shooing him out the door and watching his car peel out of the driveway and speed down the street
You take a seat on the couch legs bouncing eyes trained on the door worried about what exactly happened to Robin that caused Steve to have that reaction. Your worrying was cut short by the rumble of an engine you recognized to be Steve’s. You jumped up rushing to the door swinging it open coming face to face with a teary eyed Robin and Steve helping her up the steps “oh Robin” you murmur sadly helping her inside and onto your couch where it seems everyone who’s had something bad happened ends up “I’ll go grab the stuff” Steve says already knowing exactly what to grab disappearing down the hall “it’s okay Robin your safe here” you comfort rubbing her back gently her face holding a far off look
“They found out” she mumbles brokenly “I’m sorry what Robin I couldn’t hear you” you leaned in closer taking her hands gently in your yours as Steve returned with the supplies “my parents they found out somehow, they must’ve saw me with Vicki or or Nancy or something I don’t know” Robin sniffs as the tears start up again “it’s okay Robin it’s okay let it out” you comfort softly looking at Steve as he takes a seat on robins other side wrapping her in a soft blanket “it’s okay let it out Robin” Steve repeats wrapping the girl up in his arms “I don’t know where to go now I definitely can’t go home and it’s not like I can stay with Nancy her dad gives me the creeps” she mutters body slumping into both you and Steve’s arms as you comfort her
“Her dad gives everyone the creeps it’s okay” you gently rub her back looking over at Steve giving him the look. Steve clears his throat and turns to face Robin “come live with us then” she looks at the both of you with wide eyes “but I don’t wanna take up room” you lightly pat her thigh “you do no such thing Robin we insist you come live with us, we have plenty of empty rooms since the boys moved into mine and this is a judgement free household” you rub her back gently again as she looks between you and Steve “are you sure?” She questions one last time “we’re positive as long as you help pay bills and don’t fight with anyone this home is now your home to” Steve nods in agreement cracking a smile as Robin begins laughing tears still rolling down her cheeks “it’ll be okay Robin we promise” you and Steve coo hugging your beloved friend as she cried
When you had called Nancy that night after Robin had fallen asleep on the couch worn out from the days events she was beyond pissed that Robins parents couldn’t just accept their daughter how she was string of curses and threats spilling from her lips towards said parents, but happy that Robin was safe at your home now, telling you she’d come to visit tomorrow morning and would bring some clothes and other stuff for Robin to use. When you hang up Steve is standing behind you fighting back tears feeling responsible for not being able to protect Robin even when you reassured him that there wasn’t much he could’ve done and that he was a great best friend for going to get her when she needed him most. “She’s safe now Stevie that’s all that matters” you say cupping his cheek as he nods “yeah your right” you nod staring over at the sleeping girl “let’s get to bed yeah I’m sure Billy is missing us” it was Steve’s turn to nod his exhaustion catching up to him as you both trudged to the bedroom softly closing the door.
By the end of that week Robin was fully moved in having chosen to stay in Steve’s old room, you and Steve decided to help her buy all new furniture since she couldn’t grab anything from her old home, and max, max was thrilled to have Robin around becoming her little shadow like Dustin was to Steve and Eddie. “Thank you again” Robin says while your all sat at the dinner table enjoying some Chinese takeout “you don’t have to thank us Robin we’re just happy your safe here with us” you smile Steve nodding in agreement “yeah Robin besides what would I do without my trusty sidekick “ he jokes offering Robin the last eggroll which she happily takes “I think your the sidekick Harrington” Robin snickers waving said eggroll at him which leads into a playfully argument on who’s cooler and the works. You can’t help but smile warmth in your heart at the fact your friends know that your house will always be a safe place for them to come.
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xremnantxrevenantx · 10 months
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Not Super Fun
“Craig!?” Wonder Tweek yelped in fear before rushing over to try and pull Super Craig off of Mysterion who he was absolutely trying to punch into paste. Tweek began to cry loudly pulling at him and begging. “Stop it! Stop it, you'll kill him!”
“You’re damn right I’ll kill him! He thinks he can just take you from me?!” Craig snarled, throwing in one last punch before rounding on Tweek and grabbing him harshly by the arm. “You’re mine! If you ever try to leave me again I’ll rip off your legs and keep you locked in my room you little slut!”
“Craig… why?” Tweek sobbed harshly, looking up at Craig with wide glossy blue eyes. 
Craig crumbled almost immediately, all of his jealous anger leaving in a rush as cold dread settled in his gut. He definitely fucked up, he never wanted to be the one that scared Tweek. His hold on Tweek loosened and he brought his other arm around Tweek’s small chubby waist in a loose and hesitant embrace. He just couldn’t understand what it was about this boy that made him lose control.
“...If I let you hit me back will you please not go?” Craig begged faintly, Tweek heard him at least because though he still cried his breath stopped for a moment and looked at Craig more deeply than he ever had.
“What?” Tweek asked almost faintly.
Craig gave him a sturdy and telling stare, clearly braced for Tweek to actually hit him. Suddenly, looking into those deep green eyes he could only think of so many nights spent under the stars. Of times of overwhelming fear and pressure soothed by kind words and patient company. Both stood there quietly as neither made a move until Craig grew impatient and huffed. “You’re not going to do it? Time’s up. Then I won’t let you hit me. We’re going.”
“W-wait no! We have to call a doctor! Mysterion is still hurt!” Tweek protested as Craig literally picked Tweek up and carried him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “You stop right now and look at him! He’s been brutalized by you!”
“Fuck Mysterion!” Craig snarled.
“Fuck you! You-you can’t just! You’re being a spoiled brat!” Tweek declared squirming his way off of Craig’s shoulder. 
Craig looked offended by the accusation and looking at him Tweek felt that he might be right, that this boy was so spoiled and demanding of his time and attention that he was beginning to realize he probably hadn’t been the only needy one in that relationship.
“I’m not spoiled.” Craig protested almost reflexively. Tweek reached out suddenly with both hands and pinched his cheeks pulling each one outwards.
“You! My Craig is such a spoiled master he can’t even function on his own?!” Tweek took a leap, he could only hope that he would be caught because the crash would be unbearable.
“My Tweek…” Craig almost whispered his entire form almost seeming to melt despite the attack on his face. His eyes were so warm and loving that Tweek immediately burst into tears and hugged him. Craig was definitely confused but he was also definitely happy as Tweek had never hugged him so tightly before.
“I want coffee.” Tweek declared into his shoulder.
“Uh-huh.” Craig agreed instantly.
“You make it.” Tweek ordered firmly.
“...I’ll make it.” Craig complied, hugging Tweek just a little tighter. Something that had been desperate, loose, and untethered in his chest finally settling into place. This was right, this made sense.
Human Kite had finally caught up to them it seemed because he shouted in dismay when he saw the state Mysterion was in.
“Kenny! Damn it Craig!” Kyle cursed, rushing over to check on Kenny’s injuries.
“Sure just leave me bleeding out on the pavement while you have some romantic reconciliation…” Mysterion muttered to himself mutinously.
“I’m so sorry Kenny, Cartman has been riling him up for days insisting that you were trying to seduce Tweek and that was why he left. It’s obviously bullshit but Craig never thinks reasonably when it comes to Tweek.” Kyle looked so clearly exhausted by what was happening. “I tried to stop him from coming here, but Cartman had me distracted with a false missing person report.”
“Holy shit dude.” Toolshed said, unsure how to even process everything that just happened. That was definitely unhealthy right? Should someone do something? “I’m pretty sure it’s not cool to just say that kind of crap to your partner.”
“Bzzzt, Craig has never really been passionate about anything but Tweek. It’s kinda scary when he cares.” Mosquito spoke up, he sort of shuffled in place uncertainly.
“You’re helping me take Kenny to a hospital! This was completely uncalled for and you know it! You’re also leaving Cartman, look at what he made you do!” Tweek bossed Craig around a little more confident in his place in his boyfriend’s life. 
Tweek tugged at Craig’s ear and made him look at where Human Kite was basically peeling Mysterion off the pavement. Craig grimaced but nodded. The others were right and he might have completely overreacted. Damn it, now he owes Kenny McCormick a damn apology. This was going to take months to live down. Craig sighed and walked over to pick Kenny up bridal style.
“Let’s get you back into civvies so we can get you to a hospital. I probably broke some bones.” Craig said, as close to an apology that would be voiced really.
“You’re a real asshole, you know that.” Kenny growled out, it was absolutely not a question.
“I’m just glad they’re not fighting anymore, they’ve both been pretty miserable to work with.” Stan admitted if only to Kyle. Kyle snorted in agreement.
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nxtgsvmcro · 1 year
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𝑰𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒔𝒕.
From coming home after the car accident to hiding in the master’s bath tub to shield herself from the spray of bullets piercing her once beautiful home. Hearing a familiar scream down stairs, Freya tried herself to be louder than the lead. “Take cover Jade!” As if on que another familiarity hit the Doctor as excruciating pain erupted throughout her body, precisely her lower abdomen. Her dark hues look down to her stomach and saw the gush of crimson color form between the legs with a liquid mixed within them. “Oh no, no, no,” tears began to escape her eyes even more. “not now!” A scream escaped her lips as a bullet flies right past her head. After that the pain she felt became more intense and thinking back on what happened -- Freya only remembers flashes. 
The 𝙋𝘼𝙄𝙉, it was unlike a pain she never had felt before and all she could do was give into the need to push. 
The 𝘾𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙎, oh the cry for help and the need for her husband kept coming out of her mouth -- even after the shooting was over and with Jade rushing to her side, asking the soon to be mother what she needs to do. 
And the 𝘽𝙇𝙊𝙊𝘿, there was so much and you would think Freya would be use to seeing it by now due to both her occupation and being an old lady, but what it’s your own blood? That shit can make you sick to your stomach. 
The last thing Freya remembered was laying in the gurney of the ambulance and her world going black after giving birth to her second son. The last thing she even heard was the cries of her twin boys and the cries of Jade as she told the Doctor to come back. 
That was two days ago and Freya was no longer in the ICU, she was finally ready to accept visitors and her first one? The one who been waiting outside her door, begging to see her was her beloved husband.  𝙆𝙀𝙉𝙉𝙔 𝙒𝙄𝙉𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙉. She honestly had no idea how she was going to confront him, all she could feel was rage -- rage for what happened to their home, to their life it was ripped to shreds and Freya knew it was something tied into the club. To the club Kenny grew up into. The Doctor turned her eyes away from the door as she saw it open and made them focus on the photo beside her. It was a photo given to her by one of the nurses that she took of the boys. Due to them being born premature the two had to spend their time in the NICU and Freya wants nothing more than to hold them.
“I - ... I can’t look at you Kenneth.” Freya choked on her words as tears began to form and escape her hues. Blinking away some of the tears the Doctor forces herself to face the man. “... How could this happen? We both know that shooting was for you and now our boys are in the NICU -- I gave birth in a fucking goddamn bathtub, screaming for YOU.” 
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daily911 · 2 years
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I know that you’re going to take really good care of her. And, she’s better off without me. I love you.
Image ID: 3 gifs of Chimney holding back tears.
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btsqualityy · 2 years
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Request: Kennedy and Tae coping with her miscarriage along with Kennedy and Junior fluff when he visits her.
Thank you so much Shay!
Warnings: mentions of miscarriage, mentions of blood
“Tae?” Kennedy called out as she opened her eyes and Tae-wook dropped his phone and stood up from the chair that he had been sitting in, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed in front of her.
“Hey, you’re up,” he smiled softly but she noticed that the smile didn’t reach his eyes the way it usually did.
“W-what happened?” She wondered. “Why am I in the hospital?”
“You don’t remember?” Tae-wook asked and she shook her head. “I came home from work and I found you on the bathroom floor, surrounded by blood.”
“Blood?” Kennedy murmured. “Am I ok? Is the baby ok?”
“Ken,” he sighed heavily, reaching out and holding both of her hands in his. “You had an ectopic pregnancy which also caused one of your fallopian tubes to rupture. They had to do emergency surgery as soon as you made it here.”
“Is the baby ok though?” She repeated and her eyes widened when she saw tears well up in Tae-wook’s eyes. 
“Baby, I’m sorry but no,” he shook his head. “We lost them.” Hearing those words felt like a knife through Kennedy’s heart and she couldn’t help the heart wrenching sob that escaped her throat as tears began to stream down her face rapidly. 
“That can’t be true!” She exclaimed. “I was fine! They were fine!” 
“I’m so sorry baby, I’m so, so sorry,” he said and she just sobbed as he moved next to her, pulling her into his arms and allowing her to sob on his chest as tears silently streamed down his face as well. 
......................................
“Kenny?” Junior called out as he stepped into the master bedroom at Kennedy and Tae-wook’s NYC apartment. 
“Oppa?” Kennedy gasped. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you,” he smiled as he walked over to the bed, leaning down and giving her a quick hug before climbing onto the bed and sitting next to her. 
“Where’s Eunji and Myungie?” She asked. 
“They’re here too, just downstairs,” he replied. “I didn’t know how you’d feel about seeing Eunji right now.”
“It’s not as if I hate her now or anything,” Kennedy rolled her eyes.
“No, I know but we didn’t want to be insensitive,” Junior explained. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit,” Kennedy replied honestly. “I’m still trying to wrap my mind around it but it’s hard.”
“Can you, uh, try again later?” He wondered. 
“Yeah. They had to take one of my tubes out but lots of women are able to have a baby with only one tube,” she told him as she looked at him. “Can I make a confession Oppa? Something that I’ve never even told Tae?”
“Sure.”
“I didn’t remember exactly what had happened when I first woke up in the hospital but over the past week, it’s all been coming back to me,” she began. “That day, when Tae was still at work, I noticed that I had started bleeding but it was originally just spotting. I swear it was Oppa. I decided to take a shower and once I got out and had started getting dressed, there was this sudden large gush of blood and before I knew it, I was hitting the floor.”
“Ken, it still wasn’t your fault,” Junior told her firmly. “There’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent it, even though you saw the blood. I don’t want you guilting yourself like that, you hear me?”
“I’ll try,” she whimpered, leaning over and resting her head on Junior’s shoulder. “It hurts so bad Oppa.”
“I know baby, Oppa knows,” he whispered. “I wish I could take all of the pain you’re feeling right now and put it on myself.”
“Like when we were little?”
“Just like that,” he chuckled. “I love you Kenny.”
“I love you too,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around him and cuddling up to her big brother. 
......................................
“Tae,” Kennedy spoke up and Tae-wook looked down at her from where she had had her head laid on his chest.
“Yeah?”
“I think I wanna go home to Korea.”
“What?” He asked. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, I was talking to my Papa and he offered to let me come home for a while,” she explained. “Said it might be good for me to be back home, with family and I think he was right.”
“I can’t go to Korea right now though baby,” he told her. 
“I know, that’s why I was going to go alone,” she replied. 
“You want to leave me?”
“It’s not like that Tae, I promise,” she swore. “I just....I feel like I’m suffocating here in the city. I need to get out but it won’t be for forever.”
“If you think that’s what you need to do, you know that I’ll support you,” Tae-wook replied, pulling her closer to his body. “Just promise me that you’ll come back home, back to me.”
“I will, I promise,” she smiled softly. “I love you Tae.”
“I love you more, Kim Yuri,” he replied, leaning down and kissing her gently. 
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fanmoose12 · 3 years
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catch me if you can
Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Erwin Smith, Kenny Ackerman
Genres: Mystery / Romance
Summary: The Ackerman duo. Just the mention of this name filled Hange with so many feelings. Mostly, when she reread the files of their cases over and over, until her eyes watered, she felt pricking annoyance. Sometimes, when she stared at the dead bodies of those scarce unfortunates who stumbled upon their crimes, she was filled with hatred and a pushing need for revenge. Hange couldn’t deny, however, there were times when she marveled at the impudence of their crimes. And, when she was investigating the Ackerman’s cases and saw just how meticulously planned they all were, she couldn’t help but feel something close to fascination.No one knew who they were. No one had seen their faces, no one knew their true names. Almost everyone knew of their crimes.Hange was determined to unravel every last one of their secrets. She will put an end to their crimes and then she will get the elusive Ackermans behind bars.
Chapter 5/?
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Hange took one deep breath, then another. She clenched and unclenched her fists. Started counting to ten in her head, only to stumble at three.
Nothing worked. The anger, the frustration, the little voice at the back of her mind, the one that whispered it's all your fault, you should have acted sooner, you should have been better - none of it disappeared.
And the longer she stood there, in the room with a man, who had a hole in his head, who died because of her, the harder it became to ignore it all.
If only she was smarter, if only she was more dedicated, if only she worked harder and didn't run away on dates like a lovesick teenager, all of it could have been evaded. The man, young man with a loving family - a weeping wife and confused children - could have been saved.
If only.
Another deep breath, and Hange reached her tipping point.
"Fuck!" she exclaimed suddenly, kicking the wall next to her so fiercely, the impact of the kick reverberated through her leg.
A moment ago, everyone else in the room had only been sending her quick, nervous glances. Now all of them were staring right at her with unmasked panic and concern.
Great, just great. Seemed like she had once again proven why she was called Crazy Hange.
"Proceed with your work!" she barked at other policemen.
They swiftly turned around, returning to their tasks. Looking for clues, searching for the smallest piece of evidence.
They wouldn't find anything. Not if they were at work.
"Hange," a heavy hand fell on her shoulder, and Hange jerked, whirling around. Erwin was standing behind her, his thick eyebrows furrowed in a concerned expression.
How did he manage to sneak up on her like that? How long was he standing there and she did not notice, too occupied with her tantrum?
"I'm fine," she waved him off, before Erwin could say anything.
"Are you?" his blue eyes stared deeply into hers, making her almost uncomfortable. But if there was anything Hange learnt after ten years of working under Erwin, it was how to endure his captious gaze.
"Just a little frustrated," Hange admitted, knowing Erwin would see right through her anyway. "If I wasn't—"
"No." Erwin spoke resolutely. "None of it was your fault, Hange."
"But Ackermans—"
"We don't even know if it's them."
"Bullshit," Hange hissed, lowering her voice so the others wouldn't hear them. One tantrum was more than enough for today. "No fingerprints, no sign of forced entry, no broken locks on doors or the safe, if it wasn't for the unlucky witness," her eyes darted to the dead man again, her heart growing heavier. "We would never know someone was there."
"It's just a house," Erwin reminded. "A house of a wealthy politician, but still just a house. It's too small of a fish for the Ackermans."
"And yet it was them," Hange argued. "The footprints on the snow," she pointed to the window. "Forensics says they belong to two men - one short, one tall. It fits the description of Ackermans that we have."
"Still," Erwin set his jaw. "We don't know if it's them."
"You might not know. But I do."
Looking at the doubt and disappointed that were etched on Erwin's face made her anger grow. Hange turned away from him, before the volcano inside her erupted.
There was nothing else to do here, they wouldn't find any clues, she was sure of it. But maybe someone else knew something she didn't.
Hange left the master's study, heading to the living room downstairs. The hallways stood empty and, despite the bright lights that illuminated her path, Hange felt a sense of unease settle over her. The farther she moved from the study, the quieter the house became. And when she left behind the chatter of her colleagues, quiet, agonizing sobs filled the silence.
Hange shuddered, as she walked down the stairs. The house sustained a tragedy, it was filled with so much grief it was hard not to be affected by it.
Contrary to the hallways and rooms upstairs, the living room was dark, and the only source light was coming from a fireplace that stood by the northern wall.
Next to it was an armchair, and there sat a woman - still wearing a gorgeous light green gown, she was holding a small girl in her arms.
The woman was crying just moments before Hange had showed up, her cheeks were still wet with tears and her chest raised and fell in rapid succession. She pulled herself together swiftly and efficiently, though, all signs of mourning were gone from her gaze as soon as she locked eyes with Hange.
"Did you find something useful?" she strictly demanded.
The dominance and supremacy were oozing from that woman. The sharp contrast - the expensive dress and the glistening jewels, ruined make-up on a hard, scowling face, a child in her hands, who seemingly didn't realize what had happened, who couldn't yet comprehend that her father wasn't going back, and quiet, desperate wails coming from another room and belonging, Hange guessed, to another child of the family - all of it made her breath hitch.
She wondered if the mother of the family would mind it if she sits down to the armchair that stood next to her.
Of course, she'll mind. She is the wife of an influential politic.
She was a wife of an influential politic, Hange argued with an imaginary Erwin in her head.
She sighed and fell down in that armchair. She didn't care if the grieving widow next to her minded or not. She was so damn exhausted.
"We are working on it," Hange said, taking off her glasses and cleaning them with a sleeve.
"You should work harder," the widow seethed.
Yeah, Hange thought, tell me something I don't know.
"So you have no lead? No idea who could have killed my husband?"
Hange could have told her the truth. She even wanted to. But then she thought of all possible outcomes and... If press found out that she hanged another crime on Ackermans and if they found out that she had the plan to apprehend them and still let an innocent man die... They would have her for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Not something she was actively striving for.
"We're working on it," she repeated, and before the widow could snarl at her some more, Hange took the line of questioning into her own hands. She came here to interrogate, not the other way around. "Did your husband have enemies?"
The woman snorted. "He was a politician. Of course, he had enemies. But there was no one who hated him enough to kill."
Hange nodded. She expected as much.
"Although, there was this girl..."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, she came and went, visiting his office in all times of day. She even stopped by our house a few times. He had hired her to look for something, I guess. I don't know if she had ever found it."
"Hm".
If it was another case, the one where she didn't already know who the culprit was, Hange would have found that new bit of information intriguing. Promising, even. Alas…
"The last question, and I'll be on my way," Hange promised. "The only thing robbed is the safe. Do you know what was inside?"
The widow looked down, gently stroking the hair of her daughter. "He never told me."
Disappointing, but if Hange played her cards right, just in a few days, they would be able to find it out for themselves.
God, interrogating those Ackermans... That surely would be a blast. Hange was beyond excited at the prospect.
"Thank you for your cooperation," she said, rising to her feet. She fixed her jacket and shirt and gave the woman a curt nod. "If you remember something else or need our help, I left my number at the table in the office. Don't hesitate to call at all times of day. And don't worry," Hange smiled, faintly, tiredly, but smiled. "Your husband will be avenged.”
***
It was his last day in the city. Levi thought he'd be feeling melancholic, nostalgic, plain sad. Instead he felt... nothing. The last night encounter, the glassy eyed, dead man... It had shaken him more than he could have expected.
Maybe, Kenny was right. He was too softhearted.
Maybe, that was the exact reason why he was holding a phone right now, contemplating if he should call her.
He wanted to. Perhaps, he also needed to.
It was his last day in the city, and Levi didn't want to leave without saying goodbye. He didn't want to leave without seeing Hange one last time.
Fuck it, he decided. He was a thief, right? Only natural for him to steal one last moment with Hange.
He opened their last chat.
hey, want to hang out this evening?
He pressed send before the doubt could resurface.
The reply didn't come immediately. He expected just as much. He wanted, hoped that Hange would answer immediately, but that was unrealistic desire. Hange was probably working, and, thanks to him and Kenny, she probably had to deal with even more work than usual.
He didn't expect an immediate answer, so Levi went to the kitchen to brew himself a cup of tea. He then went to his room and started packing his things.
One hour passed, two, three.
No reply.
There was nothing left for him to do - with his suitcase full and apartment clean, he didn't know how to occupy himself.
Sitting in his room and staring at his phone like a loser seemed too pathetic even for him.
He was beginning to contemplate if he should call Hange instead of texting, when his phone screen finally lighted up. He eagerly opened the message.
I'm busy.
He stared at the text for a few moments, not quite sure what to make out of it.
It seemed so cold, so detached. So unlike Hange.
He deserved it, though, he knew he did. Question was - did Hange know it too?
So that was it then. The end of... Whatever he and Hange had.
An almost all consuming sense of hollowness settled in his chest as he came to this realization.
It didn't go according to the scenario he had envisioned in his head. But that's how it went in the end. Hange was busy and he was leaving. There was nothing he could do about it.
Wallowing in self-pity wasn't going to make him feel any better, so Levi forced himself to move. He hid the phone into his pocket and rose to his feet.
He walked out of his room, searching for Kenny.
He wasn't in his own room, packing his things like Levi had told him to. He wasn't in the living room, lazing on a coach with a bottle of beer and cigarette, either.
Instead he was in a kitchen, sitting behind a dining table with legs propped up on chair. Kenny was talking with someone on a phone, a suspicious smile playing on his lips. That smile wasn't the usual malicious or greedy one, no, that one was uncharacteristically pleased. It seemed like whoever he was talking to, Kenny liked them.
That made Levi pause and narrow his eyes, staring intently at his uncle.
"Thanks for the offer, dear, I'll call you back as soon as me and my nephew polish your plan a bit.”
Levi was barely fast enough to catch his jaw. Dear? Plan? The hell Kenny was talking too?
"Levi!" putting the phone down, Kenny turned to him with that weird smile still plastered on his lips. "It's good you're already here. I have great news! I found another job for us!"
An- another job? Levi couldn't believe what he was hearing. Surely Kenny couldn't be serious.
"We are leaving the city this night," Levi gritted, boring holes into his uncle. "Did you forget about that?"
"Ah, that," Kenny waved his hand and Levi had to stop himself from breaking that hand. "We have to postpone it a bit. Just one job, and we can leave."
Anger was starting to boil inside him. There was so much of it - remnants of last night's incident, frustration brought to him by Hange's text - that Levi had trouble breathing. He balled his hands into fists, resisting the growing urge to lash out at Kenny.
"You promised," he spoke in a voice so low, so tense it was barely audible. "You promised we would leave after the last job."
"And we fucked it up, didn't we?" Kenny retorted, the smile slipping from his lips. His expression darkened, as he met Levi's scowl squarely. "And if we're going to leave like you keep pushing me to, then we need money, Levi. And this job will provide us with enough to last for a few years."
"You said the same thing about last job," Levi reminded, refusing to back down.
"And I was wrong about that," Kenny rolled his eyes. "But this job isn't from Reiss. It's from someone I trust."
Levi arched an eyebrow doubtfully, and Kenny muttered a curse.
"As much as I can trust someone," he admitted with a sigh. "It's a legit job, and it's fairly easy."
"How easy?"
"We already have a plan of the building, a way to the vault and even a way out."
"And what's the catch?" Levi frowned. "If someone has that much info and opportunities, why ask for our help?"
"Ah," Kenny grinned. "Traute is very smart. Very talented too, but, unfortunately, she is not as good at dealing with safes and locked doors as you are."
"Traute? Who the fuck is that?"
"Oh right, you haven't met her. Traute used to be... a partner of mine," the not so subtle implication and the dreamy look in Kenny's eyes made Levi wince. There was nothing in the world he was less interested in than Kenny's partners. "We had so much fun in the past... During the heists and, you know..."
"I don't, and I don't want to," Levi grumbled. "Get to the point, Kenny. When are you planning to rob the place? We can't stay here for too long."
The weird thing was that, despite his insistency and constant urgency, Kenny didn't even ask why they had to leave, and so swiftly. It left Levi with two possible explanations - either, his uncle knew something too, or, he trusted him enough not to question his motives. Levi wasn't sure which one was more outlandish.
"In two days," Kenny answered. "If we're lucky, we'll be able to get on a plane that very same night. If we're extra lucky," he wiggled his eyebrows. "Traute will agree to go with us."
"In that case, I'd better run to another part of the world."
"It will go smoothly," Kenny rose up, reaching out to clasp his shoulder. "Don't you worry. No surprises this time."
Levi wished he could believe him.
***
"No!" Traute raised her hands as soon as the unhinged detective started approaching her. "No hidden cameras, wires or other stuff. It's too risky."
Kenny, that sly bastard would find them either way, no matter where detective Hange decided hide the devices. Setting a trap on him was already dangerous as it was, they did not need additional hazards.
"I can't just let you go there unsupervised," detective Hange glowered, running a hand through her hair in frustration. Traute almost felt bad for her, she could only imagine how much stress the detective was under. The operation and recent murder, all of it fell onto her and she was already on a verge of breakdown. Traute could see it in her red-rimmed eyes and sagged shoulders. "What guarantee do I have that you won't betray us?"
Traute huffed. The answer to that was laughably obvious. "Because I value my freedom much more than a man I used to rob banks with fifteen years ago. I know it's hard for you," it was hard for her too, trusting someone from police to keep their word. However, detective Hange seemed like a sort of person who wouldn't back out on a promise. That sort of people infatuated Traute, but Hange appeared as an honest, trustworthy person. Maybe, in another life, Traute would have respected that. Or, maybe, Hange Zoe would have irritated her even more. But as it was now, Traute had no choice but to rely on her. And she needed Hange to do the same. She laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it softly. "You have to trust me. It's the only guarantee I can give to you."
"If this fails—" Hange sighed, pushing the hair out of her face. For a second, Traute saw a look of uncertainty on her face, but Hange blinked and it was gone. "This operation can't fail," she declared passionately.
The newfound fire in her eyes was almost inspiring.
Traute found herself smiling at her. "It won't."
"Alright," Hange rubbed her hands together, turning to her desk. "Let's run through the plan one more time. You come to the Ackermans and..."
"I show them the blueprints you gave me."
"Right," Hange nodded, satisfied. "And then what do you say..."
"I say..."
***
"This entrance will be left unguarded," Traute tapped her finger against the small dot on a drawing. "You two can sneak in and then..."
"And how do you know that it will be unguarded?"
Traute huffed, rising her gaze from the blueprints. Although, considering the height of Kenny's nephew, she didn't need to raise it too high. He was as short as he was irritating. Traute now knew why Kenny never introduced them. Kenny was an asshole, who could backstab you seemingly at the smallest whim, but, at least, talking with him was pleasant. The same, unfortunately, couldn't be said for his nephew. It was the fifth time he had interrupted her in the last ten minutes. Calling him annoying was starting to become an understatement.
"Levi, give Traute a break," Kenny cut in. "She knows what she's doing, believe me."
This didn't seem to placate Levi. "I just want to know what I'm getting myself into."
Jesus. And she thought Kenny was too suspicious.
"Go on, dear," Kenny urged. "Don't mind my nephew, he still hasn't learnt his manners."
"Then you move to this hallway," Traute continued, ignoring Levi's glare she felt at the back of her head. She couldn't wait until this goddamned mission would be over. She'd be ecstatic to see him behind bars. "It leads right to the vault..."
"And what can we steal from museum's vault? Don't they put everything valuable on display?"
God, another interruption and Traute would throttle the annoying midget.
"They don't always put originals in there," she gritted through her teeth, showing him the glare of her own. "And if you take a painting or two from that vault, it'll be enough to last you for a lifetime."
"That is," Levi didn't back down. "We find a buyer."
"Oi!" Kenny clasped his back. "Don't embarrass me, Levi! Of course, Traute already found a buyer, that's how these things are always done," he turned to Traute then, looking her up and down. "You found someone already, right?"
"Of course," Traute nodded, hiding a smile that threatened to break her face at just the thought of their so called buyer. Would serve the two assholes well, for all the frustration they were causing her right now. "All you need to do is steal the paintings."
"And you? What are you going to do in the meantime?"
"I'm taking care of security cameras and alarms."
"Hm," was all Levi had uttered, and Traute had never thought that just a short sound could make her go nearly insane with anger.
He surely had a talent.
Kenny looked over the blueprints, scratching his beard. "So those paintings..."
***
"So those paintings would actually be there? The vault won't be empty?" Traute asked, staring at Hange in surprise. That seemed like an unnecessary risk. Should anything go awry...
"We have to catch them red-handed, remember? But we won't put originals in here. Just something that could be mistaken for them in the dark."
That part could easily backfire too. Of course, detective Hange had already mentioned the dark room, and that would undoubtedly make identifying the paintings a lot harder, but still... Kenny was insanely good at that kind of stuff. It was natural, of course, considering how many years he had spent in this line of job.
"They could realize it's a forgery," Trautedecided to voice her doubts.
"They could," Hange agreed. "But if something goes wrong and they manage to escape with original paintings..." she dropped her head into her hands, letting out a quiet whine. "Dawk will have my head. All brass would have my head, press would have my head, even Erwin..." she shuddered. "Even he would have my head."
"Alright," Traute nodded, more than a little disturbed by detective's shaking shoulders. "Should we move on?"
"Yes!" Hange exclaimed, way too loudly. She raised her head and the almost manic look in her eyes made Traute even more alarmed. She wanted to ask if maybe they should take a break, detective Hange looked like she really needed it, but she started talking before Trautecould even open her mouth.
"You have the most important job, Caven," Hange said, putting hands on her shoulders and staring straight into her eyes. "We can’t put a police officer in the security control room, that could raise Ackermans’ suspicion, so you’ll be the one monitoring their movement. You need to watch Ackermans closely, and you have to make sure they use the exit we'll be patrolling."
"We? How many 'we' are you talking about?"
"Not much. We can't risk attracting attention, so we can't use a lot of people. The team will consist of me and a couple of other officers."
That was a smart choice. A choice that maybe would lead to success of the whole operation.
Once Kenny told her that cops smelled so bad he could actually feel their stench from miles away. Traute wasn't very keen on finding out if it was a particularly bad attempt at humor or another talent of his.
"Once we catch them and apprehend them, your sentence will be cut in half. And that's it."
***
"That's it?" Levi scrunched his nose. "Sounds—"
"Amazing!" Kenny guffawed, shooting Traute a brilliant smile. "Thank you for this offer, dear. You won't regret it."
Oh. Traute was most certain she would not.
"If you want to know more, you can ask—"
"No need," Kenny assured her. "We've heard everything we needed to."
Good. Because Traute told them everything she knew. Should they ask for more details, she'd have to resort to lying and improvising. And that could not only damage their operation, it could also raise Kenny's suspicion. Traute was good at lying, and Kenny... Kenny was good at seeing through everyone's lies.
She grabbed her purse, eager to get out of here as quickly as possible. "I'll see you..."
"In two days," Kenny promised. "We'll be there, don't worry. We're not stupid enough to let this opportunity slide. Well," he grinned. "Levi here might be a little stupid—"
"Oi!" Levi hissed, looking just like an angry cat.
Traute rolled her eyes, watching the two men bicker. She was more than done with them.
"In two days," she reminded them.
She wasn't sure if they heard her, and, frankly, she didn't care. She knew they would show up. Kenny wasn't a man to pass a good job.
She walked out of the hotel room Kenny had rented, because of course the distrustful jerk couldn't let her see their apartment, and exhaled in relief.
The first part was done.
She took out her phone, typing a short message for detective Hange.
The trap is set ***
His eyes were already hurting, watering because of his intense stare, but Levi persevered, looking over the blueprints once again. There got to be something he missed. Some minor detail, a small, miniscule catch.
There got to be. This theft couldn't possibly be so easy.
Several extremely expensive paintings just lying around in some vault? Without any guards to protect them?
Either the museum stuff was incredible careless and unprofessional, or... Traute was lying to them.
It was the most plausible explanation, and yet... Kenny seemed to believe her. He trusted her, as much, of course, as Kenny could trust someone who wasn't himself.
And if Kenny, the most distrustful bastard in the world, trusted someone, it meant that the person had already proved themselves to him ten times over.
However... However Levi still felt uneasy.
And so he continued staring at the blueprints, searching for something that most probably wasn't even there.
He studied the image so intently, he missed the moment when the screen of his phone that lied next to him lightened up. It lightened up a second time, two minutes later, but Levi paid no attention to it either. It was only when it started ringing, startling him, that he finally looked down at it.
He blinked a few times, not quite believing what he was seeing.
Hange was calling him.
He rushed to take the device in his hands, his finger trembling as he accepted the call.
"Hi," he greeted, his voice shaking so slightly.
"Hi!" Hange replied, sounding a little out of breath. Levi wondered what was she doing and where was she. He heard some noises, cars honking and wind blowing. Was she outside? "I didn't wake you up, did I?"
Levi glanced at the clock hanging on a wall beside him. It was almost two in the morning. He didn't even notice.
"No. I haven't gone to bed yet."
"You should," Hange said, and Levi closed his eyes, picturing her slightly frowning face. She probably narrowed her eyes and pushed her glasses up in attempt to look more serious. "It's late. Don't you have work in a morning? Where is it that you're working, by the way? I don't quite remember..."
Because Levi had never told her.
He blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "I'm working in accounting."
"Oh right! Is it exciting?"
Levi's lips twitched, as he fought back a smile. "It has its moments."
"Good! It's important to love your work!"
Levi snorted. "You have way too much energy for two am, you know that?"
"Sorry," Hange laughed. "It's been a long day, or a week..." she trailed off. "Perhaps even a month... Sorry for calling so spontaneously, I just... wanted to hear your voice, I guess."
God, what a nuisance. Making his heart skip a beat just with a couple of words. Either Hange possessed some kind of super power or... he was just that pathetic.
He didn't realize it, but he missed the sound of her voice too. And her face, her lively expressions, radiant smiles. Maybe, they could...
"Hey, Levi," Hange brought him back to present. "Can we facetime?"
So now she was a mind reader as well?
“Alright," he said, trying not to sound too eager. Hange didn't need to know just how much he enjoyed her company.
"Great! I'll call you a back in a moment!"
Levi used that moment to check himself in the mirror behind him. His blue hoodie seemed good enough, not too wrinkled and without any stains. He ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it, and forced himself to relax. It was just a simple phone call, nothing to lose his mind over.
In the next second, his phone started ringing again, and he almost smiled.
Nothing to lose his mind over, he reminded himself as he accepted the call. He raised the phone to his face and went to sit on the bed.
Hange waved at him, grinning goofily. Her face was barely illuminated by a phone screen, but even in the darkness Levi saw purple circles under her eyes. She looked utterly exhausted, and yet... inexplicably relaxed.
"It's good to see your face," Hange said, forcing his heart to skip yet another beat. "Wanna see something cool?" without waiting for reply, she turned the phone around, showing Levi a view of a street below from her balcony window. Hange lived in the middle of a city, a few blocks away from him. The night city was splendid - bright, vibrant, alive. The lights poured from every side and even now, in the middle of the night, the streets down below were full of life.
He was going to miss this.
Although, as much as he appreciated the view of the city he grew in, Hange's face was far more interesting for him right now.
Not knowing how to ask her to turn the camera back without sounding utterly moronic, Levi let out a tch sound, and grunted, "get inside. You're going to catch a cold in weather like this."
"Nah," Hange's face was finally staring back at him. "I've got this to keep me warm," she pointed to a blanket that was sliding down her shoulder, showing her sharp clavicle. "And this!" she lifted a bottle of beer, drinking from it.
Levi rolled his eyes. "It's not very professional to get drunk in the middle of a week, you know."
"I won't get drunk on one beer," Hange argued, wiping her mouth. "Besides... It helps to calm my nerves. I have a big day tomorrow..."
He was going to have a big day, or, rather night tomorrow too.
Fuck it, Levi decided, getting to his feet.
"I'll be back," he told Hange and hurriedly left the room, confused 'heys' following after him.
He returned a moment later, holding a bottle of beer of his own.
"Cheers," he grunted, opening it and taking a swing.
"It's not very professional to get drunk in the middle of a week, you know," Hange mimicked his voice, accompanying it by a horrible parody of his face expression.
"It's your damn influence," he shot back.
As he took another swing, all tension that was building inside his shoulders ever since their last theft disappeared. Perhaps, Hange was right and beer did help. Or, perhaps, it was Hange's bright smile that relaxed him so.
"What are you doing this weekend?" Hange asked.
Hopefully, leaving this city behind, Levi thought, but decided not to voice his thoughts. Instead, he shrugged, mumbling, "dunno yet."
"There is a skating rink, it's right outside the precinct," Hange smiled dreamily, playing with her hair. "I have been staring at it for days now, people are having so much fun! Do you want to go?"
"I—"
"It's okay if you don't!" Hange quickly assured. "We could go to some other place or maybe not go anywhere at all..."
"I don't know how to skate," Levi mumbled, embarrassed all of a sudden. "Never learnt."
"I can teach you!" Hange offered, the sparkle in her eyes burning so brightly, Levi could see it through a phone screen. "We would probably end up with dozens of bruises, but it'll be fun, I swear! And then we could order hot cocoa, warm up at a cozy cafe..."
None of it was going to happen, but it was two in the morning and the beer left a bitter taste in his mouth, making him feel snug and comfortable, so he let himself indulge in that little fantasy Hange had created. He imagined a skating rink, illuminated by soft, pretty colors. He tried to imagine how skates would feel on his legs, how they would make him slightly taller. And he imagined Hange's hand in his, her deep melodic voice explaining him how to move his legs and keep his balance. He could almost hear her laughter and feel the cold sipping through the back of his pants as both of them came tumbling down in a heap of limbs.
"I see you like the idea," Hange gently teased, taking note of the content expression on his face. "Then it's settled!"
"Alright..." Levi murmured, washing the feeling of regret with another gulp of beer.
Maybe, he shouldn't have been so adamant about leaving.
No. Levi instantly stopped himself. They had to leave. Because if they wouldn't, Hange would find out who he really was.
Hange liked him, but not the real him. She liked Levi the accountant. If she knew Levi Ackerman, the famous thief, she'd hate him.
And he didn't wish for that to happen.
"It's getting late," he noted, the clock on his phone showing almost three in the morning. "We should go to bed."
"Yeah," Hange mumbled, yawning. She finished her beer and gave Levi a soft, sleepy smile. "Thanks for talking with me, Levi. I appreciate it. And..." she paused, picking at the wrapping on the bottle. "I just wanna say... I'm glad life threw us together."
"It wasn't life," Levi scoffed. "You fell down on me."
Hange chuckled, scratching her neck in embarrassment. "Maybe, it was fate... Maybe, some deity wanted me to fall for you..."
"That was terrible," Levi grunted, making Hange giggle. "Go to sleep already."
"I'll call you soon, alright?"
"I'll be waiting," Levi promised.
Hange smiled one last time and disconnected.
Levi stared at the now black screen for another moment.
He broke out of his trance with a low curse. He was getting too pathetic for his own good.
He finished the beer and took off his hoodie, heading to the bathroom.
Hange was right. A big day was ahead of him.
***
“Traute is already in the control room,” Kenny informed. “If anything goes wrong, she’ll tell us.”
Levi nodded, hoping than nothing would go wrong this time. For now, it seemed like it truly wouldn’t.
Just as Traute had promised, getting inside was almost laughably easy. No guards, no alarm, the backdoor wasn't even locked.
"Stealing is becoming too easy, eh, Levi?"
He leveled Kenny with a long, hard look.
It was a good thing Levi made them wear a mask. There didn't seem to be any security cameras - at least, he couldn't see any that were still functional, it seemed like Traute had held her end of the bargain. But Levi didn't allow himself to relax.
Relax, and they could fuck up again.
However, masks gave him at least some semblance of comfort. They were cheap, ridiculous things bought by Kenny at a carnival during one of his drunken adventures. They did their job, though. If there was a hidden camera somewhere or they happen upon a lonely guard or late working employee, no one would see their faces.
Perhaps, they would be able to avoid another senseless murder then.
They quietly moved through the hallway, and as they did so, it was hard for Levi not to gawk at his surroundings. A painting here, an antique tapestry and extravagant vase there. He was honestly surprised Kenny hadn't started grabbing everything he could. If so much stuff was located there, in a dark-lit hallway, Levi could only imagine what was waiting for them in the vault.
He turned around the corner, coming to a stop in front of the stairway. Everything was just as Caven had planned it. And yet... the worry lingered.
"We don't have all night, brat," Kenny gave him a rough push.
Levi sent him another dark glare, but complied, starting his descent. The vault was there, at the end of the stairway.
Grab the paintings, and he was free. They could leave the city, save themselves.
Leave everything behind.
Levi gulped, swallowing a lump that appeared out of nowhere. Get yourself together, he scolded himself, taking another step down.
Soon the door to the vault was right in front of them. Not wasting another second on doubts and worries, Levi dropped to his knees, taking out his instruments and starting to work on a lock.
"There," just after a few seconds, the lock was dealt with. Levi stood up, pushing the door open. "Let's get this over with."
***
The street seemed so empty. No car passing by, no peculiar pedestrian or even a stray cat, only a bright red light of some bar's signboard that kept flicking on and off. Just like the street they parked at, the bar appeared to be devoid of any life.
Hange scoffed, jerkily moving a lock of hair from her face. She never thought she would say it about one of the most important missions in her life, but she felt bored.
She wanted the action to start already. Wanted to rush in there, catch the damned Ackermans in the act and then revel in the shock and fear in their eyes.
The satisfaction Hange would get out of this surely would be more than enough to overshadow all frustration the thieves had caused her.
"Hange," Mike shook her shoulder. "Caven had just given a signal. The Ackermans are inside the vault."
Finally!
Without wasting any second, Hange opened the door of the police van and jumped out on a street. She heard Erwin's exasperated curse but didn't stop to listen to him, rushing to the entrance of the museum.
Finally, finally, finally.
A whole year of hard work, of everyone doubting her and telling her to just quit, and now she was there, had Ackermans trapped just like she had planned to.
Hange smiled as she felt other footsteps joining hers, the rest of the team already on the move.
No one had believed in her, not even Erwin, but Hange had proved them all wrong. She had done the impossible, caught thieves who were considered untraceable and invisible.
All Hange had to do now was claim her reward.
***
The vault was very different from what Levi had envisioned for himself. He imagined something big, grand, something appropriate for the spectacular art the room was holding.
But in reality, he and Kenny entered a dark, narrow and dusty room. It looked more like a closet than an actual vault.
Kenny didn't waste time surveying his surroundings. He dived in, taking the first thing he happened upon. He unfolded the parch of paper, tilting his head to study it more closely.
"Flashlight, Levi," he demanded, outstretching his hand.
Levi handed it to him, getting to work himself. He wasn't nearly as skilled in art as Kenny was, but seven times out of ten he could distinguish original from forgery just as easily.
"Seems legit," Kenny muttered. "Looks like Traute didn't lie."
Levi paused for a second, turning to stare at his uncle. Here he was, tormenting himself with doubts, and Kenny wasn't so sure about their alliance either?
"You didn't trust her?"
Kenny barked a short laugh. "I wouldn't still be alive, kid, if I trusted people left and right."
"Then why have you agreed to the job?"
"Because," he shrugged. "I wouldn't still be doing it if it wasn't for greed."
Levi scoffed. Of course. What other answer could he expect from Kenny.
"We'll use other exit, by the way," Kenny remarked, shooting a quick glance at Levi. "You studied the blueprints well, right?"
"As best as I could."
He could close his eyes and see it clearly, all entrances and exits, all dead ends and turns. Seemed like feeding Levi's suspicion was a part of Kenny's plan as well. Scheming bastard.
"Then come up with a different route. And quickly," Kenny shoved another folded painting into his backpack. "We're almost done here."
Levi started thinking, turning the imaginary blueprint in his head this and that way. There was only one way to exit the vault. The stairway was inevitable too. But once they reached the hallway, they could take another turn and head to the front entrance. It was a bold move, too bold, perhaps, they didn't know if guards were stationed in other parts of museum or not, but it was the only way.
"Alright," Kenny seized his shoulder. "We're done here. Are you ready?"
Levi nodded and immediately started moving, leading Kenny out.
They left the vault and the stairway was empty. Still, Levi stopped for a second, listening closely. The museum above them seemed silent. Feeling a little more confident, he quickened his pace, taking two steps at a time.
As he reached the top of the stairway, he drew a deep breath, walked into the hallway—
And came face to face with Hange.
*** Hange doubled down, taking one shallow breath after another. Perhaps, Erwin was right in scolding her. She was a little too excited to get there. And now she was completely out of breath.
That won't do, she thought. She didn't want to face Ackermans panting and sweaty.
Hange straightened out, pushed her glasses up and fixed her shirt and coat.
She glanced over her back, giving Mike and Erwin a slight node. They nodded back and Hange took out her gun. The recent murder had proved that Ackermans were always armed and they didn't hesitate to kill. She hoped she wouldn’t need the gun, but just in case…
Hange took another deep breath and prepared to rush in.
However, before she could take a single step forward, two figures appeared right in front of her.
She grinned triumphantly.
Seemed like luck was on her side tonight. Ackermans came straight into her arms.
***
Levi didn't know how long he would have stayed there, staring into Hange's eyes, if it weren't for Kenny's hand that grasped his sleeve and pulled him forward.
"Shit!" Kenny shouted, as they started running.
The rest of Hange's team - Levi didn't know how many there were, there was no time to stop and glance back - followed after them.
Hange was on the front, hot on their heels.
Damn her long legs, Levi cursed.
So Traute had betrayed them, sold them out to police. She was going to pay for that, Levi could clearly see it in the way Kenny gritted his teeth.
"Stop!" Hange shouted. "You're surrounded, there's no point in running!"
"We'll see about that," Kenny muttered and pushed Levi sideways, forcing him to take a sharp turn.
They could have split up, perhaps, it would slow down their pursuers, but Levi knew it was pointless. There were too many of them to create an efficient diversion.
"Do you remember the blueprint?" Kenny breathlessly asked.
Levi nodded, catching his gaze behind the ridiculous mask.
"Good. Then I have an idea. We need to lose at least some of our tail first. Make them stumble."
Levi nodded again, and suddenly took a turn, running to the door. It was another risky move, the door could have been closed, but, thankfully, their luck haven't died out yet. Levi tumbled inside the dark room. If he remembered correctly, there had to be another door at the other side. He located it fairly quickly and headed there. He opened the door, waited for Kenny to get through and pushed it closed, careful not to look behind his back. If he met Hange's eyes again, he wasn't sure he would be able to look away.
He ran into the hallway and took the first door to his left. He kept pushing forward, leaving one room and going into another. Soon the sound of footsteps that followed after them had decreased. However, someone was still pursuing them. Levi prayed it wasn't Hange.
"That will do nicely," Kenny grinned as they appeared in the middle of another long hallway. "Good job, Levi," he threw, coming to a sudden stop.
Levi's heart stopped as he saw Kenny take out his gun. His knees nearly gave out beneath him as he saw Hange appear at the end of the same hallway.
Kenny's hand shot up, aiming the gun right at her head.
Kenny never missed, Levi knew that. He was a witness to his uncle's incredible skills just days ago. The light fading from that man's eyes, his face forever etched in the expression of fear, Levi could never forget that.
He couldn't let Hange suffer the same fate.
He couldn't and— he wouldn't.
It all happened in a span of a heartbeat.
Levi looked up, saw Kenny's finger at the trigger, saw it move and curl and—
And just before he could pull it, just before the shot rang, Levi launched himself at Kenny, pushing the arm with a gun down.
The shot still rang, Hange still screamed. She swayed, falling against the wall—
Kenny never missed, and this time wasn't an exception. But it was as close to exception, as one could get. He hadn't shot her head or her heart. Hange was clutching her shoulder, her already bloodied shoulder, the sight of which made Levi almost ran to her, made his hands tremble with desire to help.
It took all of his willpower to stay put.
Hange was alive, wounded, but still alive. Levi could breathe again.
As Levi was watching Hange, Kenny was watching him. Levi could feel the weight of his gaze, burning into the side of his head. He tore his eyes away from Hange, staring back at his uncle. Kenny's eyes were full of anger and incomprehension. Before he could reach any conclusion, though, they heard approaching footsteps.
"Hurry up," Kenny curled his hand around Levi's forearm, roughly yanking him forward.
Levi stole another glance at Hange, his heart breaking as he saw her slowly pushing herself up, determination pushing her forward despite the injury.
"I'm sorry," he mouthed and left her behind.
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Warning for NSFW and dirty talk.
Part 35 of Jimercury Kid series
Despite being fifty-one years of age, Freddie still had a sex drive that a teenager would be proud of.
Which made it all the more frustrating when he came home from the studio after a long, tiring session and wanted nothing more than to be taken to bed and suitably ravished by his husband so he could forget all his worries and grievances for a few uninterrupted hours.
But with children came responsibilities. Usually by the time Freddie arrived home, Jim had already picked Khaleel up from school, helped him with his homework, played with him and prepared his dinner, on top of working in the garden all day. Naturally, the Irishman would be exhausted, and sex was the last thing on his mind.
Freddie tried to be understanding about the situation. Jim was a hard worker and dedicated hours of his time to both the garden and their son, so the singer felt he didn’t have any right to begrudge him for being less than enthusiastic about intimacy. But his own biology betrayed him; that constant primal need to fuck and be fucked was achingly present, tormenting him day and night.
In his younger, more reckless years, he would have simply sought out a temporary bedmate to alleviate this problem. But those days were long over; he loved Jim and was fully committed to him. Which was why he was now sitting alone in the master bedroom, staring down at the bottle of lube in his hand and wondering how much time he had before Jim returned from the school run.
He couldn’t pinpoint when exactly he had decided to take this idea forward, but he knew it had something to do with the giant bulge straining against his zipper, begging to be let out. It had been two weeks since he and Jim had slept together, and lately Freddie had resorted to taking matters into his own hands (quite literally.) Living with a seven-year-old made it difficult to get any alone time, so he took this opportunity by the horns and pushed his sweats down to his knees, pulling out his half-hard cock and squirting a generous amount of lube into his palm.
He leaned back against the headboard as he gently began to massage his throbbing member, unable to think of anything other than his husband and all the things he wanted Jim to do to him. He thought of Jim pinning him to the mattress, trailing kisses along his neck, gently suckling at his throat as he thrust in and out of Freddie like a hungry animal. He thought of Jim beneath him, nails scraping against the skin of his back, breathing hot air into his ear as Freddie took control for the night. Watching Jim’s face flush and his pupils dilate while Freddie bounced on his dick, riding himself into oblivion.
As the early waves of pleasure washed over him, Freddie reached up and gently pinched a nipple, rolling it between his finger and thumb. He tried to imagine Jim behind him, one hand up his shirt while the other tended to his leaking cock, whispering the filthiest words into his ear until the Persian was a sobbing, squirming mess.
‘Jim…’ he couldn’t help but whisper desperately under his breath. ‘Jim, Jim.’
As good as it felt, it wasn’t the same. No matter how hard he thought about his husband, how well he pictured him in his mind, it wasn’t the same as Jim physically being there. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bring himself over the edge; every time he felt close to release, his brain held him back.
After a while, his arm began to ache and he sighed in frustration, realising this was a futile effort. He opened his eyes, only to be greeted by a figure standing in the doorway and he yelled in surprise.
‘Jim!’ He spluttered, grabbing a pillow to cover his nether regions, ‘haven’t you heard of knocking?’
‘And interrupt this show?’ Jim grinned. ‘No chance.’
Freddie felt his cheeks singe. ‘How long have you been standing there?’
‘Only about five minutes.’ Jim stepped into the room, taking a seat at the foot of the bed. ‘Khaleel’s started on his homework in the kitchen and you’re far better at maths than I am, so I came up to find you. But clearly you’re preoccupied with other things.’
‘You ass.’ Freddie grumbled, trying to play off his embarrassment. His cock was still painfully swollen, pressing up against the pillow in a desperate search for friction.
The smirk on Jim’s face didn’t falter. ‘So, you think of me when you’re jerking yourself off?’
Freddie looked appalled. ‘Of course I do! Who else would I be thinking of?’
‘I don’t know. Burt Reynolds?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Freddie crossed his arms defiantly, but quickly dropped them back to his sides when Jim cocked an eyebrow. ‘Okay, maybe a few times. But mostly I think of you. You’re my husband, for God’s sake.’
Jim’s eyes glittered with unusual mischief; he rose from the bed and walked over to Freddie’s side, taking hold of the pillow, and moving it away from the Persian’s crotch. ‘Shift over.’
Freddie frowned, confused, but moved over without complaint, allowing Jim to sit down next to him and lean back against the headboard. The Irishman spread his legs and patted the space between them; it didn’t take Freddie long to realise what he was asking.
‘Darling, Kenny might call for us.’ He said uncertainly, even as he lowered himself between Jim’s legs, allowing his husband to tug his jeans down further to his ankles.
‘Phoebe is there if he needs any help.’ Jim murmured in his ear, taking up the lube that Freddie had abandoned and squirting a large helping into his hand. ‘Don’t worry, this won’t take long.’
Freddie still wasn’t sure, but as soon as he felt Jim’s firm grip on his cock, all he could do was hum softly and let his head fall back against the Irishman’s shoulder, closing his eyes as those familiar pangs of pleasure returned.
‘What were you picturing in that pretty little head of yours?’ Jim began pressing soft, warm kisses against the crook of Freddie’s neck, revelling in how the singer moaned and bucked in response. ‘Were you thinking of me fucking you? Ploughing into you nice and deep?’
‘Mmm…’ Freddie bit down on his bottom lip desperately, resisting the urge to scream. He thrust harder into Jim’s fist, cheeks pink from the effort.
‘You love it when I fuck you, don’t you?’ Jim nibbled Freddie’s earlobe, smiling as the Persian shivered and whined in response. ‘You love lying there on your hands and knees, arse in the air, your little hole desperate to be filled with my cock.’
‘Jim.’ Freddie practically sobbed, so close that his whole body was trembling. He wasn’t sure how Jim always managed to make him come undone so easily, but he fucking loved it.
‘Do you remember Live Aid, Freddie?’ Jim carried on, undeterred, his voice a mere whisper. ‘Remember me standing backstage while you strutted about onstage, showing off that gorgeous body of yours? Do you have any idea what I wanted to do to you in that moment?’
Freddie was beyond words. He just shook his head, desperate for Jim to keep talking.
‘If I had my way, I would have marched you off that stage, taken you to the dressing room and fucked you so hard you couldn’t remember your own name. The rest of the band would have been on the other side of the door, wondering what was going on, but they’d just have to wait because I’d be too busy filling your greedy hole. You’d be moaning so loudly, everyone in that stadium would know that the great Freddie Mercury was being fucked and he loved it-’
With a strangled cry, Freddie came into Jim’s hand, the tears in his eyes spilling down his cheeks as he was overwhelmed by his orgasm. He collapsed against his husband, gasping for air as Jim gently cradled his jaw and tilted his head back for a sweet kiss.
‘God, I’ve missed you.’ Freddie panted against the Irishman’s lips.
‘I’ve missed you too.’ Jim kissed him again. ‘So fucking much.’
OMG SO FUCKING HOT🥵
I absolutely loved this, my god. It's such a wonderful use of the prompt. I mean, their sex life must be pretty... dry, even with a seven year old lol who could barge in at any time in their bedroom (or other places, you know, if they get a little adventurous😏). So I really don't blame Freddie for getting some solo action. But lmao, ofc he can't get off without his husband.
And damn, Jim! The dirty talk was... oof. I mean... wow. Oof. Yeah, wow.
Also lmao, Freddie admitting to thinking of Burt Reynolds made me cackle hahahaha. But of course, he thinks of Mr. Reynolds only a few times. His own 'Burt Baby' (that's apparently an actual nickname that Freddie had for Jim), his husband, is enough to fuel his fantasies😌
I love this so much, darling. So fucking hot!
(More drabbles by writer anon)
(All the parts of this series can also be found under the tag #freddie and jim and their baby on this blog)
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Additional Tags: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, One-Sided Love, Romance, Canon Compliant, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Manga Spoilers, Kissing, Implied/Referenced Sex, Crying, Eren Yeager-centric, Sad Ending
Words: 6k
Summary: Eren has a dream that he will never live to see. So, at least, he wants to make this one small dream come true.
Eren has always been a dreamer.
Ever since he was a kid, he’d stare upon a wall and imagine the world outside. He’d dream about what he would do when he finally gets to go outside the walls. Armin would dream with him. The days inside the cramped walls would be a little brighter when he gets to dream of soft shredded ice falling from the sky and rivers of red molten rocks. The waves of glittery blue saltwater, the waves of green hills unending. To stand on top of the mountain and gaze upon the blue sky, seeing where it starts and ends in the horizons.
The dreams wouldn’t have gone wild nor wonderful had it not been for Armin. The naive creative boy that he always is, came up to him with big blue eyes filled with dreams that infect Eren on sight.
Looking back now, Eren doesn’t know whether his dreams had become everything he lived for, or a slow poison killing his insides.
Because all his dreams are dead the moment his lips met the back of Historia’s hand.
He grimaced at the memories. It took every will that he has to not vomit then and there at Historia’s feet.
Everything was never the same after he knew.
They ride out to the beach, and there it is. Infinite saltwater, blue as the sky, glittering in the sun. Yet he can’t feel happy about it, he had seen it with the previous’s attack titan’s eyes. The magic is gone before he gets to experiences it on his own.
His eyes stare longingly at the ethereal scenery in front of him, but all he sees is the enemy across the ocean.
Eren had a lot of dreams. Hopeful little dreams that all lead to one thing. He wants to be free. Free to explore. Free to be who he wants to be. Free to love. He can have none of those, because of the enemy that lurks behind the glittery waves.
If we kill the enemy, the one waiting for us on the other side, will we be finally free?
Not realizing that he said his musing, Armin steps by his side.
“I don’t think we can ever be fully free,” his blue eyes are as blue as the sky, as blue as the water. Eren wondered if Ymir put those eyes in him because this moment was destined too. “Even the people across the ocean aren’t free too, that’s why Grisha ended up inside our walls.”
Eren had fallen to a deep depression after the memories barged in, Armin’s words almost sealed him into rock bottom.
Almost, until Armin adds, “But we’re people. As humans we’re given a will, a choice to do things, even if there are consequences, nothing can ever truly stops us from doing what we want.”
Yes, this moment is truly meant to be, Eren thinks as Armin’s eyes filled with hopes and dreams, like it always meant to be.
“There’s always going to be enemies, Eren, but we worked our hardest to break out of the walls, and though we’re not fully free yet, we’re still rewarded.” Armin looks at him, and for a moment, the clouds parted, and it’s bright. Ever since the medal gifting, Eren had slowly ignored them all. This is the first time in many months that they meet eyes again, and of course, the hope and dreams latch on deep and rooting yet again.
“Right now, we’re being rewarded with the sea,” Armin looks down to the conch he’s holding, lowering it to the crystal clear water to sit in the sand. “We have big dreams, and it hasn’t come true yet, but the small dreams do. Didn’t we always dream to see the sea? Now we finally do, it came true. We broke out of the walls, the possibilities expand, there’s going to be a lot of small dreams coming true before the big one.” Armin looks at Eren with a mischievous glint, but Eren is too mesmerized to see what’s coming. “Like how you... can enjoy... a fist full of salt!” Armin throws a big splash of salt water on Eren’s mouth.
It’s so salty that Eren almost hacked his tonsils out. He doesn’t remember ever eating something so salty, ever. He used to beg his mom to put more salt in their dishes, but salt was a rare commodity and they’re far from rich. Now, Eren just had a fist full of salt.
Eren paused, and everyone’s stiff stares turn worrisome for him when Eren broke down into a manic laugh. As if the salt in the water isn’t enough, Eren contributes with his tears streaming down along the water in his hair.
Swimming in the clear blues, salty mouth, and vision almost whiteout by brightness, Eren feels like flying. He takes the saltwater and splashes Armin back along with Mikasa behind him.
Armin’s face broke into a wide smile and kicks the water at him. Eren gets completely wet, so is Captain Levi behind him. They all paled at the Captain’s scowl, but then Hanji squeals, “WATER WAR!”
And Eren will take water war over the other war he’s going to evoke.
++++
Small dreams
Or so Armin had said.
Once again, Armin filled him with hope. Maybe not all of Eren’s dreams are dead. It never occurred to him that he could settle for less.
Once upon a time, Eren dreamed of living in a cabin far in the woods. Where he can run and not bump into someone. Where he can breathe in crisp air instead of the damp breaths of other people. He dreamed of making a family in that cabin. Be in love, never feeling alone.
He had planned to do that with Mikasa. It’s so easy to love Mikasa, how couldn’t he? A stoic face that only brightens at Eren. She’s a quiet kid, but she shows affection with actions. Like how she’s always beside him no matter how petulantly Eren pushes her away sometimes. She’s distrustful but still trusted Eren the most. Her smiles are rare, but when she does, it’s always for Eren. It’s endearing.
Also, she’s beautiful. She doesn’t realize it and Eren sometimes wants to scream at her. But Eren never said anything to her, never admitted out loud. He knows since the day he met her that Mikasa is special. She’s calm, collected, mature and so strong. Eren never gets why she loves him, but Eren is afraid if she realized how special she is then she wouldn’t choose the lame, regular, non-special Eren.
But he wants her. He promised himself if the war is over then he’d confess his feelings to her and just... love her.
Eren wants to feel loved, to be loved, to be wanted and cherished. Wants all the romantical shit with that person. He’s loved by Mikasa, and he knows if Eren asks, Mikasa will never say no to Eren under positive circumstances.
Now that Eren knows the truth about Ackermans, he can never see Mikasa in the same light again.
Mikasa’s love -now that he gets a double-take- is scary. She gave her whole heart in her palm, her full dedication and love only for Eren, no questions, no hesitations, no doubts. What did Eren do to deserve it? To work for it? Nothing.
All Eren did was save her, and gave her a scarf because she looked cold and Eren’s mom taught him to be good. If Mikasa was a depraved kid lacking affection her whole life then Eren would’ve understood why Mikasa was taken by him. But no, Mikasa’s parents were good to her, what Eren did was not special to her.
She loves him, sure, like a dog loves its master. Unreasonably unconditional. And the dog doesn’t know what’s good for themselves, blindly loving their masters. Just like how baffling it was that a selfish serial killer like Kenny suddenly have a heart to follow a hidden king just because he begged prettily.
Having Mikasa love him doesn’t bear the same euphoric feeling. Eren isn’t special, just a lucky kid at the right time, she could’ve imprinted on anyone. Eren had thought this dream is dead.
Eren still loves her, she’s still a person, just a fucked up gene. So at that night infiltrating Marley with the team of survey corps, Eren asks her, “Why is it that you care so much about me? What am I to you?”
Mikasa blushes prettily, her breath quickens.
“You are family,” Mikasa admits shyly.
Unlike the dog that loves its master, Eren knows better. It’s not that Mikasa is pushing him away, Eren is family, Eren is her everything, that’s why all she said was those three words. And she feels all these things without any reason at all, so much that she can’t compute.
Then the family of the boy he helped offer alcohol, and Eren gulped it down. In a way, Mikasa broke his heart. Eren wasn’t special to her. Eren isn’t wanted, he’s being obsessed by, being followed by someone that doesn’t know better.
Morning comes. They’re in a boat on the way back to Paradis Island. Eren decides to give his dream one more try. Maybe it doesn’t have to be romantic? He settles for even less.
He finds Armin by the deck at 6 AM. The only ones awake around are them, the captain behind the wheel, and the fishes under.
His blue eyes take in the dark sea, the pinkish color of the dawn sky.
Eren knows why they both are the only ones up this hour after a whole night drinking. Turns out being a Titan means that you regenerate everything. They don’t get drunk too long, and they don’t get hangovers.
“Armin?” Eren can’t help the desperation in his voice, not in front of Armin. His best friend has seen him at his worst, and he’s still here, it must mean something, right? “What am I to you?”
Armin -who had been looking at him curiously the moment Eren spoke- drops his jaw. They look at each other for a while, and Armin seems to sober up from his shock and looks stern.
A pair of arms smack on either side of Eren’s face. It sobers Eren of all the melancholic brooding, even more now that Armin is putting a nagging face on. “Eren Jaeger, you listen to me. We’ve been friends since we’re gaggling children. You were a trouble-seeker even though you’re weak, couldn’t even land a punch on some goons! We all survived childhood purely thanks to Mikasa.”
“At least I tried to fight, unlike you, taking it laying down,” Eren growls, lifting his hands to pinch both of Armin’s cheeks. Gone the baby fat, they’re a little bit skinnier from growing up, and a bit too many muscles replacing it.
“Ow!” Armin grabs Eren’s wrist and to Eren’s surprise, Armin pulls his hands away easily. The strength stuns Eren’s mock anger away, and Armin looks at him with a solemn gaze. Eyes tinted pink look a bit lilac purple.
“I could never understand why you would befriend a weak kid like me, but then I figured it out.” Armin takes a deep breath, and suddenly Eren feels weak. Why is Armin looking at him like that? “You, Eren, are the most important person in my life. The one I cherished the most, and closer than family. No one realized how big of a heart you have, and your pride gets in the way of asking for help. But you care so much about everyone when no one was looking.” And Armin looks at him, Eren hears ‘but I did’, from Armin all the same.
“You’ve been different since we stepped into Marley,” Armin says, freezing Eren on the spot. Eren hoped he schooled his face as well as he thinks. “Whatever it is, you’re not alone. Alright? You have us, and we’ll always be on your side.”
Eren was done before he knew he started. Tears bursts from his eyes, lips frown deeply, holding back sobs.
“Oh! Eren, uh...” Armin awkwardly pats Eren’s back and Eren pulls him into the hug. It takes exactly one second for Armin to completely melt and wrap him into a tighter hug.
His heart bleeds. Armin did two things with his words. Makes Eren feel loved, and tore him a betrayal yet to be done.
It hurts because Eren knew, they can’t be on his side. They won’t, and that’s how it’s meant to be.
“Armin, can I try something?”
“I... guess?”
Maybe it’s Armin’s unpredictable blush or Eren’s half-broken heart, but it’s easy to just dive in. Eren didn’t realize how small Armin’s face is until he cups it, touched its cheekbones, trails the jaw, cradles the back of his blond hair. Leaning in is easy. Once meeting Armin’s lips, he felt some sort of instinct. It tells Eren to leans closer, tilts his head, licks the lower lip, and parts his own.
Eren wondered why lips taste so sweet and feel so soft, or was it just Armin?
When Armin’s arms find his sides and clutches, Eren feels heat riding up his spine, up to his head. He wants more. The morning is cold and every gentle move Armin does to kiss him back warms him with life. Finally, Armin parts his lips too, and instincts take over again. Tounge between teeth, roaming into his mouth.
Still, the best feeling of kissing is not how Armin feels on him, but how Armin is feeling him up. Armin kisses back with curious vigor, lips moving quicker, hands clutching tight. When Armin moves his hand to cups the back of his head and grabs his hair, Eren shivers. Eren wants more, wants Armin to want more of him.
Armin doesn’t feel the same, as he shows by stepping a wide step back. Eren gasps at the sudden space, cold strikes him like a slap, arms awkwardly hugging where Armin was less than a second ago. Blue eyes widen, in shock, but not in disgust, and Eren hoped.
“But... I thought Mikasa...” Armin stutters, hand on his lips. Eren empathizes, his lips still tingle too.
“I don’t think of her that way.”
“Liar, I saw you... You...” Armin’s words died away. Yes, he saw Eren looks besottedly at Mikasa when no one was looking. It changed though, and even though Eren isn’t transparent, Armin can read him like a dog-eared book.
“I don’t think of her that way anymore,” he corrects.
It’s true. Eren did think of her that way, not anymore. Eren loves Armin, but he never thought of him that way, now he can, and somehow it makes sense. His wild dreamer of a head can see it.
Armin’s silence is discouraging. Self-consciously, Eren feels that he might be moving too fast.
...
What’s Eren doing? What’s next? Going on a date? Be boyfriends? Share sweet nothings under the stars until Eren eventually betrays them all?
He knew he had to give up on his dreams, small as it is, and he won't live to see his one most important dream come true. Eren sees the suffering and the screams, but not the peace that came after.
Still, a part of him yearns and reaches desperately before Eren can pull away.
“We don’t have to talk about it,” Eren says, every word ripped from his flesh. Eren smiles apologetically at Armin’s confused expression. “It’s nice... I-I... You’re my everything too.” The confession is terrifyingly easier. Eren feels the heat on his face now, and the shaking cold of his fingers.
Armin takes a deep breath with his slacked jaw, still startled, but something changed in his face, softer.
Eren walks away, but a strong grip holds his wrist. Eren realized that strong as Armin is, he’s not as strong as Eren’s. Eren is just so weak for him. Since when? How could he never notice?
Well, he notices now, and it makes him flush when he kisses him. It doesn’t mean anything. Nothing can come out of it. Eren can’t dream of it.
“Since when?” Armin asks vaguely, but Eren still knows.
“Since just now,” Eren says truthfully.
Armin lets him go then. Eren doesn’t look at him when he walks away.
+++
But Eren never stopped yearning.
Everything starts coming to place. So fast, so perfectly that it scares him.
These moments with his friends are numbered, and with all the power given to him, he can’t stop time.
He remembers what Armin says, and what Eren can realistically take from it. Enjoy it while he can. Cherish his friends while he can. As embarrassing as it sounds, Eren was saying the truth when he said he wants none of them inheriting the Attack Titan. These people live through hell with him, and he’ll make sure all of them make it in the end. No need to bear the Titan for the sake of foolish wars. It all will end with Eren, and it’ll make one of Eren’s dreams come true. The friends most precious to him will live in peace till they’re old and grey.
All of this is for the dreams that Eren will never live to see.
But the small ones, his mind says in betrayal, it can come true right?
Those words are what got him yearning still for the one thing he had given up on, or trying to at least.
Nothing changes between him and Armin. Eren has more practice in acting, he finds it easy to have a poker face, seems like his face does the same thing if he’s in despair, so he lets it take over. Armin is a bit different. The tension is there though faint. Lurking glances at the corner of his eyes, disappearing just before Eren could turn and see. It was Eren that says they don’t have to talk about it.
He hates it. Hates that even without meeting his eyes, Armin still gives him hope.
Eren knows he’s been sneaking into Annie’s jail cell. A part of him feels jealous, another part feels relieved. Relieved because Armin can move on, and maybe they’d pretend they’re never a thing to begin with. Yet Armin never stopped staring, and Eren could never really let go.
Eren knows that inherited traits from previous owners of the titans are possible and real. Eren is almost entirely sure that Armin’s affection purely came from Bertholdt. Eren had the same lingering feelings too. Bursts of instincts and thoughts that came out of nowhere. He feels weird with his hair short. All he thinks of his mother is not her love anymore, but guilt. So he clutches the feelings he knows are his own. New as it is, his feelings for Armin are one of the things he’s confident in. One of few.
He’s a compilation of previous Attack Titans now, but he’s still him. Eren is more than a shell, more than a pawn. Still his own self. Still Eren Jaeger. Still his mother’s son.
“Still human.”
“What?”
Eren snaps back and sees Mikasa’s searching eyes. They’re helping around Historia’s orphanage again. The horse he’s brushing is nudging him to continue where he left off.
“Nothing,” Eren mumbles.
Mikasa looks like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t. She drops the hay she was carrying to the feeding bin and steps out of the barn with a worried look.
Eren can’t help but wonder if Armin would’ve said or done something different.
+++
It’s dark, nothing but the moon, the fireflies, and his oil lamp for light. His friends are back at the orphanage having a game night. Eren had said he was tired and wanted to sleep early, then sneaking out to take a walk alone along the dirt path from Historia’s orphanage. Eren feels misplaced in the group, detached. They’re all smiling, having fun, but Eren feels like he’s alone. For all the plan to work, he just needs to keep his mouth shut and trusts Floch and Yelena to carry on the plan.
Eren wishes he could tell someone. Wishes that it didn’t have to be genocide. Wishes he could live to see his dreams coming true and live for them. Wishes he has someone... just someone to cry on. To share his fear because Eren is terrified-
“Eren?”
He didn’t hear anyone coming, he was that deep into his head. Of course, it’s Armin, and of course, he looks worried.
“Oh,” Armin says, sad. “You don’t have to hide when you needed to cry.”
Eren takes a deep breath, taps his face, and turns out the dampness in his face was not from the humidity.
“Talk to me,” Armin is close to begging, but not quite enough for Eren to fold.
Eren can’t talk to Armin, or he’ll say it all, undo a nail in the dam and all the water will break through. All the fears nearly choke him to death if he lets it.
“Do you have small dreams?” Eren asks because he can’t handle doing the talking.
“I do,” Armin says easily. He gestures to one of the trees facing the clearing Eren was heading towards. They sit there, watching the sparse clouds moves. “The sea is one of them,” Armin says once they sat, the oil lap turned off. The moon is full, Eren can see every detail of Armin’s face.
“What else?”
“Well there’s the mountains, and the snowy dunes, Onyakopon says it’s called the artic... I want to travel the world.” Armin looks to the moon with his hopeful eyes, and Eren’s heart is pulled.
Yanked painfully.
“You can do that,” Eren says, trying to smile.
“How about you?”
Eren looks down to his hands, “I’m not a dreamer like you,” He lied terribly, “It’s hard to, isn’t it? We’re still in the middle of the war, there’s a chance we won't make it.” I won’t make it.
Armin furrowed his eyebrows, “This is not the Eren I know,” his voice rising, “The Eren I know won’t give up until he has vengeance! His goals and hopes and dreams! Until he’s free! The Eren I know is always brave!”
Eren grits his teeth, his dead dreams flash in his eyes. “Fine! I’m a coward! I’m setting my expectations realistic Armin! We can’t always have what we want because we’re tied with obligations-”
“Why does it matter! Why is it ever the reason we stopped dreaming, huh?” Armin rises to his knees, looking down at Eren with fury coated with shadows. The moon looms upon his blond hair, tears falling down his face. “And we’re all scared Eren! I don’t think I ever stopped being scared since a Titan peeked from the walls of our home and literally kicked the gate open... the Titan that I am now.” His voice weakens, hands by his side shaking in balled fists.
Eren wants to touch him. Pull him to sit down, wipes his tears, pull him into his arms, curled into him, because yes, Eren is scared too, more than he’s sane to handle sometimes.
“But being brave means that we keep trying despite being scared... Being brave means that we have something to push through fear. That’s why we can’t stop hoping, having dreams! You can’t stop hoping Eren!” Armin sits back down, hands clenching on Eren’s shoulder. “Don’t give up on them! If you do... then... then what do you fight for?” Armin’s voice is broken and desperate.
“For all of you,” Eren says weakly, “I told you that before. I want all of you to be free.”
“But what about you!” Armin shakes his shoulder, “What about your dreams for you!”
“There’s none! Alright?!” Eren snaps, gripping Armin’s hands, and pushes him away. His breath is fast and shallow. A bundle of nerves wanting to run. Stars break behind his lids
“Eren, please!” Armin clutch his wrist, “You have to have something to live for. Don’t...” Armin’s broken voice makes Eren look, not surprised to see Armin looking heartbreakingly sad. “Don’t throw your life away so easily! I know our years are numbered and no one can tell whether we die in this war or not... but I’d-I’d... if we found peace within our years, I’d... want to spend however little left of my life with you.”
A sob came out first before the tears, Eren can’t hold it back. He’s been clutching everything hard so close to his heart that he just couldn’t hold himself together anymore. He wanted to say it all, lay the sins he hasn’t committed, and be loved despite so. He knows Armin would, and he would help. Eren wouldn’t be alone, but he can’t.
Armin will have his dream come true, having peace in his lifetime.
Armin’s war will be over in a few years.
Eren’s war will never end, not till he dies.
“Please, don’t let me hope,” Eren begged.
“But-”
“I can’t have small dreams, I just couldn’t!” Eren snaps again, throwing up all his anger in his throaty scream, “I can’t! I tried Armin but I kept wanting more. I want more and everything! Nothing is ever enough and this fucking war is...” this fucking fate, her fucking wish, “It’ll take everything from me.”
“No, not yet,” Armin says solemnly with new determination, face still wet from crying. “I have a plan okay? Don’t you trust me?”
Eren is thrown again between pain and anger. His scowl rained down with tears. “You know I do!” I’ll betray you but you’ll pull through, I believe you will. “This has nothing to do with it. We... it just... I can’t...”
“Tell me what it is,” Armin begs, “I’ll help it come true, I’ll help in any way I can. Please.” Those honest eyes look at him, tear down the walls he puts up. Why does Armin always make him hopeful? Even though Eren has nothing left in his future? Why?
Why after years of guarding his desires, one look from Armin unravel him instantly?
His heart finally bare of walls, hands clenched so tightly they shake, Eren screamed his soul out, “I WANT TO BE FREE!”
He screams so loud to the blank indifferent sky that his voice echoes. He hadn’t dared voiced that dream of him anymore, knowing he’ll never have it. It was all he wanted, but there’s a chain of fate in his neck.
Even though he’s chained, doesn’t mean he’s muffled. Not anymore, his heart yearns openly. “I want... I want a life! A long life with someone I love. A cabin in a large space in the forest, where the air feels cool in our lungs. I want kids on my own, I want to grow old with someone! Someone that loves me despite who I am,” despite what I’m about to do. “I just want to be myself.... not a weapon, not a soldier, not a tool.” Not fate’s fool. “I just want to live... build a life, build a home, be with someone that cherishes me for me.”
Eren makes a mistake in looking at Armin, finding the blue eyes mimicking the heavy rain pouring from Eren’s. The worst is the despairing look on Armin’s face, the full mournfulness of the usually boyish hopeful look.
Eren’s mouth still loose, the adrenaline from the truth makes him brave, “I want... I want more than just a kiss.” Armin’s expression doesn’t change, still in that heartbroken despair, it’s like he’s not surprised. “I want to go... spend time with you... more than-than just a friend.” At that, Armin finally looks surprised.  Eren’s face burns, but it’s easier to say without the suspense of how well Armin is going to take it. Whether it’s a yes or no, the answer is already chosen by circumstances.
“You-You’d want that?” Armin’s tone in disbelieve.
“Yeah,” he croaks, already sore from screaming.
“I thought...” Finally, Armin looks down, “I thought you were just curious about the kiss, not necessarily me.”
“Well... both of that. The kiss and... you.”
Out of nowhere, Armin barks a laugh, stilling Eren looking at him like he’s crazy. “Geez, I should’ve known. You’re really an all-or-nothing guy.”
“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” Eren pouts.
“No, not bad, but by gods, your actions can be baffling sometimes,” Armin smiles. Oh if only he knew.
It’s eerie how they can fall to banter easily, smoothly, and Eren can’t help to imagine a lifetime of this. He tamps it down instantly.
Eren feels oddly lighter, but he knows tomorrow he won’t. He’ll mull about tonight, and nothing will be done about it, then it’ll add to the list of things he broods about.
“Wait,” Armin says, before Eren gets to ask what, a pair of lips landed on him. It’s more chaste than before because Eren still put up his guard. It’s still too sweet and Eren still got poisoned.
They lean back, flushed and a bit breathless. Armin is flustered, nervous, but Eren is carefully stoic, which means he’s despaired.
“You didn’t have to do that for me,” Eren clips.
“Unlike you, I’m more selfish.”
“You didn’t even like me like that.”
“You don’t know that.”
“And Annie?”
Armin sighs, “I don’t know why... but I just feel if we could’ve had time, me and her could be something.” Eren knows the reason, an indescribable instinct. “But Eren,” His hand grips Eren’s, pinning Eren at place with his gentle touch. “Annie and I didn’t become anything. She’s frozen in a crystal, and you’re here.”
Eren should feel like chopped liver, really, but why is he hopeful instead?
“And I want you.”
Eren watches his best friend, watches closely. Their transparency towards each other goes both ways.
“I know maybe... my feelings aren’t as deep as yours yet, but I still want you.”
Eren finds no lie, and it’s harder to not let his soul soars in joy. Yet.
“Nothing can come out of this.”
“Who says?”
“Armin...”
“See the smaller picture,” Armin put his hands on Eren’s face and his mind stops. “I know you’d always want more, but isn’t having something small is better than not having anything at all? Did you ever regret kissing me the first time?”
“No.” Eren knows he’s utterly defeated yet again by Armin’s wits.
“Would the future you regret kissing me some more?”
Eren weakly smiles, “I-I think future me will thank present me.”
“Well.”
They both lean in this time, knowing what to expect, but still getting surprised by what they get.
Their third kiss is better, both of them anticipate it, both of them wanting. They know better how to slot their bodies together. Their lips were a bit chapped, tasting like the apple pie they had for dessert today. Their hands move more confidently. Eren goes along Armin’s back and jaw, feeling the newly shaved undercut. Armin’s fingers go to his nape, feeling his grown-out hair. Those fingers trail down Eren’s chest and pull his shirt.
Suddenly Eren’s backed against the tree trunk. Momentarily they part their lips, just to look. Eren doesn’t know what Armin is finding that makes him blush and doe-eyed, but what Eren finds is that Armin wants him too. Armin, who could’ve waited for Annie, who could’ve had anyone, wants Eren. No genetic conditioning. No previous titans making him like Eren. This is Armin as he is, wanting Eren as he is.
That’s all he needs. It’s all he wants.
Eren is wanted. Not as a tool. Not as a weapon. Not his power.
Just Eren.
When they kiss again, skin touch skin. Hands pressing on pulses. Their breathing sound loud in the dead of the night. No one is listening but them.
No one stopping them.
In the protective cradle of the forest, they finally get to be curious teens fooling around.
++++
They’re not anything, but not nothing either.
Something noticeably changed between them, but it’s not hard to hide what they are when even they are not sure what they are.
They have nothing but stolen kisses, sneaking out in the night to spend time alone. They don’t really talk, just touches that keep getting bolder. Eren’s feet coming up Armin’s legs under the table as he explains strategies. A hand on Eren’s inner thigh at a group dinner. Sex in the closet. Disappearing at night. Sneaking into each other’s room. Sneaking out in the morning.
Eren admits that feeding his hunger is exhilarating, he’s never felt this alive since he sees the future. Eren would never admit that this happiness scares him.
Eventually, the carpet will be pulled from under his feet, and Eren will have no one to blame but himself.
But Armin was right. Small dreams coming true are still better than dead dreams. Eren is living in his little secret of peacefulness whenever he’s pulled aside where no one can see them.
“Eren,” Armin murmurs, voice hoarse, curling towards Eren for warmth. Eren pulls the blanket over their naked shoulders, shimmying closer. He nuzzles on top of blond hair and smells the sun. Legs bare and long stretching along with Eren’s, Armin rest his temple against Eren’s. Since when did Armin get this tall? Armin plays with Eren’s shoulder-length hair. Since when did his hair get that long?
How did time pass so fast?
“Go back to sleep, it’s still early,” Eren says with familiar affection, a soft spot dangerously tender. He kisses the top of the blond hair by instinct and felt his heart squeeze. He wants to keep Armin here, in his arms, forever.
“I can go back to my room if you want,” Armin offers sleepily, knowing that Eren has been having difficulty sleeping, but not knowing the real reason why.
“Never, stay,” Eren feels a lump in his throat, small mercy grants him for it not to show.
They’re in Eren’s room at the furthest corner of the house that’s far inside the woods. They’re here for Titan experiments, the only other people in the house are Hanji and her assistant.
The window curtains are parted so they can see each other, can’t risk the lamp on to alarm anyone. As always, whenever they’re together, the moon is their only witness.
Eventually, the carpet is pulled from under his feet, Eren has no one to blame but himself. Still, his small dream coming true is still better than nothing at all, Armin was right, nothing surprising there.
He tucked Armin closer to him, caressing his back languidly, not wanting to let go ever. Tears building up his eyes, chest contracting, heart pounding, crying silently.
“I love you, Armin,” Eren says, as clear as saying hello in broad daylight. The body in his arm tensed. Blue eyes still bright even in the dark, open wide in shock, but the softness in his expression means Armin at least expected it.
For a while they say nothing, just stare and touch. Eren’s hands snake up to cup Armin’s jaw that keeps getting more defined. Both of them are nineteen, still growing, and Eren can never see what a handsome man Armin will grow into. Will he keeps his soft features? Or will he has a growth spurt to grow really tall and broad-shouldered? Eren will never have the answer.
But Eren has this.
This Armin that’s his. This Armin wants him. This Armin gave his firsts to Eren and given Eren’s firsts. He’ll take it, he’ll keep it till the day he dies.
Small dreams partially coming true. Is it still better than dead dreams?
“You don’t have to say anything,” Eren adds, knowing he still visits Annie, still has indescribable feelings for her. It doesn’t stop Eren leaning to kiss him by the sunlight roots. This part of Armin will forever be his, Annie can have the rest of Armin’s life.
Armin nuzzles closer, face buried in the crook of his neck. Shaky breaths hit Eren’s skin, arms tightening around his torso.
“I wish we have more time,” Armin’s voice broke, “I wish we’re not.... here.”
Eren hugs him closer, letting his heart falls. He knows Armin doesn’t mean it the same way as Eren would, but he lets himself wishing for it too. Wishing that this was another world, in another time, where they can be something and have more than a decade to live.
“I know. Me too.” Eren doesn’t let himself sob, so he just curled.
They say nothing more. Just holding each other until they fall asleep.
Or, only until Armin does.
Eren counts the seconds to his deep breaths before detaching himself from Armin. He doesn’t look away from Armin, not even when he picked up his clothes from the floor and dresses. Eren let one more tear escape as he put one last kiss on Armin’s temple and lips. Eren tucks him under the blanket and closes the curtains so the morning light won't be too harsh on him.
One last look before he closes the door, let his chest cave in, nurse the hurt that’ll last his short lifetime. Eren takes a deep breath, wipes his tears, and closes the door gently. Too weak for goodbyes.
Eren sneaks out into the stables, sushing the horse with pets and apples he stole from the pantry. Cloak on, hiding his face, he rides out into the pier where Yelena and Floch are waiting for him there.
Eren retraces his plan with Floch, and goes out on the boat with Yelena towards Marley. She hands him the Eldian uniform that fits him suspiciously well. Eren doesn’t hesitate to pierce one of his eyes and cut his leg.
When he’s finally at the Eldian camp, the despair in his eyes is barely acting.
++++
++++
+++
When they meet again, Armin sees him with nothing but betrayal.
No love left there to scavenge.
But, once upon a time, Eren was wanted for the human he is by someone who could’ve chosen anyone.
Those eyes had looked at him fondly. He was precious to someone.
His small dream did come true.
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heyyyharry · 4 years
Text
Last chapter: Heavy Is The Crown
(from ‘The Conman and the Maid’ Series)
…in which the end is a new beginning.
Warning: SMUT
Word count: 6.1k
AU: princess!y/n, conman!harry, prisoner!harry.
Series description: Y/N is a princess and Harry is a prisoner in her castle. With his help, she escapes from her arranged marriage in search of a happy ending, if there is one.
Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N)
The epilogue and synopsis of the sequel is at the end of this chapter :) Enjoy and let me know your thoughts!
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Kenny started at the sound of the door creaking open and whipped her head around to find Stefan peering in. The fire cast an eerie shadow of her upon the wall, making him look more like a small and helpless child than the master of his own house.
“Sorry, I should have knocked,” he said.
“It’s okay.” She sat up straight and folded her hands on top of her knees. Stefan still idled at the door. She nodded her head toward the other seat in front of the fire, trying to suppress a smile. “Come sit with me. This is your house, Stef.”
“It is, yeah,” he chuckled, kicked the door close and shook his head as if he hadn’t meant to forget this was his house. She watched as he dropped heavily into the chair facing hers. They both started talking at the same time and both looked away. It had been a long time since they’d seen each other in person. She stifled a laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck and said, “Y-You first.”
She pressed her lips into a smile. “I was just going to say thank you for letting me stay.”
“We’re friends, aren’t we?” His eyes disappeared into two lovely curves, but as soon as he leaned back into the chair, his face shadowed grimly. “I was going to say,” he added, “that I’m so sorry for what you had to go through.”
Kenny’s smile wavered a little. “It’s all right now. I’m safe here with you.”
She could never tell poor Stefan that every time she closed her eyes, she saw the dead bodies of her husband and the man in the black cloak lying at her feet. She’d murdered someone and seen Harry murder someone. Those two deaths would stick with her forever, and maybe she deserved that punishment for having broken her vows and married someone else, or maybe it was for her jealousy and the wicked thoughts she’d had about the Princess of the North without even knowing the girl.
She waited for Stefan to say something, and when he didn’t, she broke the silence. “Where do you think Harry is now?”
Stefan drew a breath. “Probably at the North castle, or close.” And regarded with her curious eyes. “So are you two…”
“No, not anymore.” She cleared her throat. “I wish him happiness with whoever he falls in love with.”
“He must get over the Princess first,” Stefan said.
“Yes,” Kenny sadly agreed. “He must. But I don’t think he can.”
There was a moment of silence.
“I wish he’d stayed with us,” Stefan said regretfully. “He could be happy here.”
Instead of telling her friend she also missed Harry and wished that he’d never left, Kenny let the silence descend. The dancing flame hypnotized her, and she allowed herself to get lost in it for a moment until she heard Stefan shifting in his chair. When she cast a glance at him, he was holding out something shiny.
“I almost forgot. Harry left this for you.”
It was the gold hairpin, which she had already given back to him on the night she’d asked him to run away and he’d turned her down.
Reluctantly, she took it with both hands and held it like it was made of glass. The gems and the gold flickered like stars in the firelight. For a second, she dared to imagine herself as a little girl and tried to recall the happiness she’d felt when she’d received it. The very first gift from her very first love.
“He told me,” Stefan went on, “that he couldn’t keep it. Because when he gave it to you and you accepted it, it was yours and yours forever. You could either sell it and open your own sewing business here, or you could keep it and remember him.”
Kenny closed her fingers around the jewellery and pressed it against her heart. Her eyes found Stefan’s face, and she realized she was looking at him through the tears. “Oh, I hope he’s safe and warm now, Stefan. I hope he’s not hurt.”
Stefan reached for her hand and held it tight. “He’s Harry. Nothing and no one could hurt him.”
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“That hurts, Peach! Why would you do that?!” Harry cried out as he leapt away from the bed. The left side of his face still stung from the force of Y/N’s hand.
The Princess flung right at him and shoved him so hard his armour clanged as he stumbled backwards and caught the bed-post to keep himself standing. She took another step then stalled at the dagger pointed at her.
Maybe this wasn’t his princess. Did she have a twin? It would be so fucked up if she had a twin. No, she couldn’t have a twin. It was she who’d shouted his name in the garden.
Her eyes gleamed with rage as her voice lowered dangerously. “Give me the dagger, Harry.”
She knew his name! She was his Peach!
Half of Harry was relieved, while the other half trembled at the black look she was giving him. She advanced and he immediately stepped back, holding up his free hand. “I will, if you promise not to attack me.”
Her jaw dropped. “You snuck up on me! You attacked me!”
“You attacked me first! I wanted to surprise you and you almost stabbed me! What the fuck was that?”
“You pinned me to the bed and held my weapon at my throat!”
“That was self-defence!” he retorted, but when he saw tears welling up in her eyes, he dropped the dagger and flew right toward her. She didn’t scream or kick or punch him as he tugged her into him and locked his arms tightly around her shoulders. She hugged him back, and he hated that this armour kept him from feeling her warmth.
They stayed like that until she pulled away and blinked up at him, tears still hanging on her long lashes. “Did I really hurt you?” she asked.
He bared his teeth. “Do I still have perfect teeth?”
“Yes,” she replied, amused.
“Then no. You didn’t really hurt me.”
“Would you have hurt me?”
“I can’t believe you asked me that. Of course not.”
“Really?” Her eyebrow rose. “Not even if I’d called the guards.”
“You’ve got no guard here. Your prince had sent all the guards to the ballroom to protect you. Except for this one.” He gestured smugly at the armour and shushed her before she scolded him. “Don’t worry. I didn’t kill him. He was drunk and I knocked him out. He’ll wake up naked in a random room somewhere.”
“My prince?”
“I don’t know.” He mimicked her tentative expression. “You tell me. You let him hold you and cried on his shoulder. He’s also very princely, which is irritating.”
“Princely,” she echoed with a soft laugh. The sound was as sweet as honey. Until this very moment, Harry hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her. His heart swelled as he laced their fingers together and took half a step back to take in her new look. She smiled when she noticed his expression; he supposed it wasn’t what she’d expected.
“What?” She smirked.
“You,” he said, still eyeing her up and down.
“Me what?”
Instead of answering the question, Harry moved closer. Their eyes locked as he reached behind her to untie her braids. She didn’t protest as he freed her hair which fell messily down to her back. He tousled it and dipped his fingers underneath her chin, observing.
“There.” He grinned. “That’s my girl.”
With an unreadable expression, she asked, “You don’t like how I looked before?”
He was taken aback. She seemed to notice the slight change in his expression because her smile faded as well.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “You looked beautiful. But so...untouchable.”
“What does that mean?” she whispered.
He worked his jaw for a moment, trying to come up with the right words, but the ones that came out could not sound more wrong. “You looked like you belonged to that Prince.”
Y/N tossed his hand away, and before he could speak, she had marched across the room to the window, facing away from him. He clasped his hands together at the nape of his neck while the voices in his head started cursing at him. Since the moment he’d got here, he’d made the girl he loved cry twice, held a knife at her throat, got slapped, and insulted her. This night had gone quite far from those romantic fantasies of his.
He strode toward her, reaching out to touch her shoulder but then he faltered and hid both hands behind his back. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m sorry if I offended you. That wasn’t what I meant.”
“What did you mean, Harry?” Her hair lashed the air as she spun to face him. “And why are you here? If you, just like everyone else, assume that I’m betrothed to Lance now, what is the point of showing up in my bed-chamber?”
He gulped and squeezed his hands into fists. His gaze fell to the floor. “Because I had to see you once before I go.”
She stood rigid in front of him. When his eyes found her face again, she was pale with shock. “Going away?” Her voice trembled like it was going to break. “To where?”
“I don’t know.” He lifted a shoulder, his mouth twitched. “I can’t stay. But if I disappeared without saying goodbye to you, I would regret it for the rest of my life.”
Tears shone in Y/N’s eyes as she moved closer and caught his face between her hands. “You are not leaving. I forbid you. You are not going anywhere!”
“Peach–”
“You’re staying here with me. I’m never letting you go again.”
Seeing her like this made him regret coming here. He should have known better, that once he’d seen her cry, he could never leave; he would spend the rest of his life going back to this moment and this room.
He held both of her wrists and his thumbs found her violent pulse. “You’re...a queen, my love. Even saying that hurts me. You can’t be with me. I’m not worried about me, but your people would turn against you if they found out about us.”
Y/N’s lashes fluttered as she blinked back her tears. He knew that she knew he was right. Her coronation was in a week. She’d be a monarch. But even with all the power in the world, she could not bend the rules to her own advantage without losing her people’s loyalty. It was either him or Isolde, and he did not want it to be him.
“You can stay here in my court,” she said, hopefully. “I’ll make you a guard. You’re better than most of them anyway. Then...then we can be together in secret. No one has to know.”
‘No one has to know.’ That reality stabbed him like a knife, and he hated himself for allowing a tiny spark of joy before it occurred to him that her idea would ruin him if not both of them.
“I’d have to watch you marry a prince.”
He hadn’t realized he’d said it aloud until she shook her head and retorted, “I won’t. I’ll never marry. I can’t–” Her voice suddenly dropped. Her expression dimmed. “I can’t carry a child, so a marriage would be pointless.”
Something stirred uneasily within Harry as he pondered over the words she’d just said. He thought he’d misheard it, and when he realized that they were real, he released a shaky breath and brought their foreheads together.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered into her cool cheek. “I’m so sorry, my love.”
A bitter laugh caught in her throat. “You’re not going to ask me how I know that?”
“You would have already told me if you wanted to talk about it,” he sighed.
She didn’t say it wasn’t true. Instead, she fisted his shirt and buried her face into his neck. “Just don’t go. I can’t do this alone.”
“Peach–” he began, but instead of pushing her away, he held her tighter. She started kissing his neck, her fingers tugging roughly at his hair, and soon their lips found each other and he could taste the salt in that fiery kiss. Her arms bound around his neck as he pushed her against the wall and tilted her head back with his fingers wrapped gently around her throat. She let out a soft sigh as he licked and nibbled at her flushed skin.
“Will you stay?” she murmured.
“Yes.” His reply sounded like a promise he would regret later on, but right now, it was what they both wanted.
He kissed her, again and again, to make up for their lost time, and when he forced her away, she almost shouted, “What?!”
Breathless, he knocked on the breastplate of his armour. “Do you know how to take this thing off?”
Y/N rolled her eyes, hard, and shoved him back. Before he could utter a single word, she dragged him toward the bed, pushed him down and sank to the floor. He propped himself up to stare owl-eyed at her aggressively tearing off each piece and tossing it aside.
“How do you know this? Did you fight in the army, too?”
She shot him a glare. “No, I helped undress my father every time he came back wounded from a battle.”
Once she’d opened the buckles and released the breastplate, she bunched up her skirt, pinned him down and mounted him as easily as she did Thunder. He swept his palms up and down her back, feeling the soft and expensive fabric that he’d never thought he’d get to touch. He’d never dreamed of kissing a Queen either, yet here he was.
“If you don’t know how to wear armour, you probably don’t deserve it,” she said, a smirk peaking at the corner of her lips. Then she kissed him again. He pushed himself up to feel her as much as he could, but her dress was too big, it was swallowing them both.
He broke the kiss to say, “Can you also demonstrate how to take off your dress?”
She scowled at him, their mouths just a feather apart. “I don’t know how. The maids helped me put it on.”
“Do you love it?”
His question startled her a bit. She tilted her head and looked at him funny. “Well, not really. It’s quite uncomf–Ah!” A shriek escaped her when he flipped them over and slipped off the bed. She propped herself up on her elbows just in time he picked up her dagger from the floor.
Realization seemed to dawn on her as she opened her mouth, yet Harry did not wait. He ripped the first layer of her skirt and yanked it right off. She gasped, her eyes flying to his face, wide with shock yet darkened with lust. He waited for her to kick him off, but she just gazed up at him, her chest rising and falling with each struggled breath. And so he tore off another layer until her thighs were exposed. She was about to say something when one flick of the blade slid precisely down her bodice, cutting through the fabric and laces of the corset and her breasts sprung free, bouncing beneath his wild eyes.
She gaped at him, half angry, half impressed, then forestalled his speech by pulling his mouth back upon hers. He palmed her breast, trying not to think about her bruises and the freshly healed wound on her bicep. He hated to imagine the torture and grief she’d gone through.
“I might regret this later,” she said into his mouth, and he smiled.
“One who doesn’t know how to take off her own dress probably doesn’t deserve it.”
Y/N threw her head back and laughed for the first time tonight. As Harry sat back to discard his shirt, she stared at him thoughtfully.
“What?” He leaned back down, arms cradling her head, their noses touching.
Her mouth curved lightly. “Not fair. I was looking forward to destroying your shirt.”
“Life’s not fair,” he said before locking his lips to hers again.
The warmth of her ruined dress enveloped them as she worked quickly at his belt, and soon his trousers were off and there was nothing else keeping them apart. She curled her fingers into his hair as he kissed his way down her scarred body until he nosed along her hip bone and pressed his lips to her skin. She angled her hips up for him. She was already dripping as he took his time licking a line from her thigh to her pussy, before he sucked on her clit and pushed two fingers into her.
She moaned, holding his head firmly between her legs. His cock hardened at the sounds she made and the squish of her pussy around his fingers. He sucked and slurped at her, pushing her legs farther apart until she had one calf over his shoulder. She surprised him by grabbing her other knee, opening up for him.
He slid his free hand along the curves of her body and gripped at her breast, brushing his thumb over her hard nipple as he tried to press his tongue between his fingers, his nose rubbing around her clit. She dug her heel into his back and pulled him in tighter until all he smelled and tasted and heard was her.
He fucked her slow and slurped up her wetness for a moment before withdrawing his fingers and sucking them clean. She was gaping at him, eyes a little wet, a flush spreading across her chest, up to her ears.
“You did miss me,” she murmured.
“So much,” he told her and moved forward between her legs, pushing her knees up to her breasts and sank into her easily. She half-sighed, half-moaned and craned her neck to kiss him. Her hands were on the back of his neck and his hands found her breasts between them. As they kissed, she moved her hips up to fuck up into him while he thrust down into her, trying to be as careful as possible for her wound might still hurt.
“I’ll love you forever,” she whispered into his ear before he caught her lips again and sucked at them. He knew she'd have to be able to taste herself on his mouth as her arousal was slick around him. He leaned down to suck at her nipples, biting lightly at her breasts.
“I’ll love you forever, too. Forever and always,” he said between thrusts, grinding his cock as deep into her as it could go as she encouraged him with her moans and nails scratching down his back. He slid his hand down to her pussy and rubbed along her clit, joining her fingers there. She thrust back against him immediately, fucking herself harder on his dick, her arse pushing against his groin.
He was mouthing along the side of her neck when she came. Her hips shook and her clutch tightened around him, and then he fucked her a while longer, just a little more, knowing this would ruin his only attempt to move on and leave her to the life he didn’t belong to. He came, muffling his embarrassing groans in her shoulder as he spilled into her and fucked his release deeper with every thrust, until he only jerked with the little aftershocks and eventually slipped out.
The room quieted. The North wind blowing through the window gap cooled their damp skin. He threw the cover over them, still on top of her because she refused to let him go. He didn’t want to go, either. What would happen to them in the morning? He did not want to wonder.
He was nosing at her throat when a knock on the door sounded, making them jump.
“Y/N,” spoke a female voice, “Are you all right? Prince Charming told me you didn’t feel well.”
Y/N raised her head and shouted at the door, “I’m fine! Don’t come in. I’m going to bed.”
Harry could hear the violent rhythm of her heart as she waited for a response.
“Goodnight then,” said the voice, “I’ll come back in the morning with your breakfast.” Her shadow wavered under the door before disappearing.
Harry chuckled and kissed Y/N’s jaw as she placed a hand on her chest and heaved a sigh of relief.
“Was that your lady in waiting?” he asked.
“And my best friend,” she replied.
“Well, your friend sounded like she hated the Prince. Maybe we could be great friends.”
Y/N giggled and shook her head. “If she hates the Prince, she’d probably hate you, too.”
Harry wondered why; it seemed like there was more she’d like to add, but he supposed she was too weary for stories so he didn’t question.
“Stay until morning,” she demanded, twirling one of his curls around her index finger. “You can put the armour back on before my maid comes back. I’ll take care of the rest. Please don’t let me sleep alone. I’ll have nightmares again.”
Harry raised his head to peer down at her face as he brushed his thumb over her half-closed eyelids. “Don’t you worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
He flipped over onto his back and gathered her to his chest. Y/N didn’t sleep right away. She began to tell him everything that had happened since they’d parted. Some details he’d already known from the gossip spreading among her people, like the duel and Egon’s death and how a witch had brought Jo back to life. Some other details shocked him, like the bargain she’d made with the witch, and the Prince, who had murdered his half-brother, asking for her hand in marriage to secure their alliance.
With a troubled heart, he watched her face in the fire glow until her tale came to an end and her breathing steadied. Eventually, the whistling of the wind and the crackling of fire lulled Harry to sleep.
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Y/N awoke when a spiteful winter gust slammed the window violently. She’d had a dreamless sleep for the first time in so long, but as she woke up beside her ruined ball gown to a grey morning and an empty bed, she wished she could just go back to sleep.
Her eyes flicked frantically around her bed-chamber. Where was he? Where was Harry? The armour was there, while every trace of him was gone.
Fear filled her up like a bubble as she rolled out of bed, put on her nightgown and a heavy fur coat, shoved her feet into her riding boots and ran out into the long corridor, terrified. She hadn’t been terrified since Jo’s death, then Harry came back and now she had too much to lose. 
Maybe she’d already lost it.
A small part of her hoped that he hadn’t gone for long and that she could still catch up with him at the gate. This time, she would at least knock him unconscious for lying to her face and playing with her heart.
As she swept past the throne room, loud familiar voices pulled her to a halt. The guards bowed as they saw her and opened the door for her to enter. This was the worst situation she’d ever walked into. Lance was standing beside her throne accompanied by only two of his guards. He was wearing his fancy black suit and black fur coat with a sword strapped to his right hip. His shiny raven hair was uncombed yet as perfect as it could be, and his stern gaze was fixed upon the man kneeling before him.
Harry.
His was the first pair of eyes in the room to catch Y/N’s, and his shocked expression got three other heads turning to the door.
“There you are, Your Majesty,” Lance spoke, his voice rough and echoey as if he was presenting a show. “I wasn’t sure if I should send a servant to wake you but I was going to anyway.”
“What is happening here?” she asked and strode up the steps to her throne.
Lance eyed her up and down, making her conscious of the fact that she wasn’t properly dressed. The humour was etched on his face, yet he made no snarky remark and motioned to Harry. “That happened.”
“Let this man go. He’s my servant,” Y/N commanded the two guards behind Harry, only to realize they weren’t holding him down; he was kneeling on his own. He didn’t even seem scared or worried. Maybe a bit guilty, but it was because of her presence.
What was happening?
“Actually,” Lance said, “he came to me on his own. Showed up in my room at dawn. Can you believe it?”
“What?!” she cried out, her eyes pinned on Harry.
He did not speak.
“Yes,” Lance answered on her lover’s behalf, one elbow resting casually on the side of the throne. “Did you say he was your servant?”
She cast a tentative glare at him. “Yes?”
“Then why did he ask to join my army?”
Y/N started, and then her head burnt with rage. She was angrier than she was confused for she had no idea what was happening and why Harry had snuck into Lance’s chamber and asked to join his army. Harry had not said a word to her about this plan (if this was a plan). If she didn’t love him, she’d probably let Lance’s guards beat him up.
“He did not know what he was talking about,” she said, glaring at Harry.
She did not expect him to speak, but then he rose to his feet and told the Prince, “I do know what I’m talking about. I wish to join your army if your men still want to fight for my Queen and Isolde.” Then his gaze flicked to Y/N for a brief second. “I knew Her Majesty wouldn’t allow me to join her army so I came to you, Your Grace. Once again, I apologize for the chaos.”
Chaos?
“Yeah, right, I forgot to tell you.” Lance nudged Y/N slightly with his knuckles. “Your servant somehow managed to disarm ten of my guards to get into my chamber. I could have killed him myself, but only a fool would let such talent go to waste.”
Y/N clenched her fists while Harry refused to look at her. It made her blood boil. She would kill him once this was over, only if Lance hadn’t done it first.
“He is my personal guard. He is not joining your army.”
Harry arched an eyebrow slightly at Y/N, and she realized she sounded like an angry mother when her child asked to go play in the snow. Better safe than sorry, she thought. She did not get him back to lose him again.
Lance held his hands behind his back and stepped closer to whisper to her. “My army will fight with yours, Y/N. He’ll still be by your side.”
That was the moment she realized, Lance knew. She had no idea how, but he knew who Harry was and how much he meant to her. But could she actually believe that this prince was doing this for her, so that she and Harry could be close without her people’s prejudices?
Her eyes searched for Harry’s again. This time, he didn’t avoid them. He stared right back and she knew that look; she’d seen it too often during their journey to the South. It said, ‘You’ve got to trust me.’
And she really wanted to.
“Won’t you have to take him with you to Attwell?” she asked Lance, not breaking eye contact with Harry.
“Once you’ve accepted my proposal, one thousand Attwell soldiers will come to Isolde and serve in your court, and this man can join them.”
Harry seemed indifferent to the mention of the proposal. He knew that in order to keep him she would have to marry Lance. She told herself to just give him up and turn Lance down, but she was also well aware that her own army could not last an hour in battle with the South. She’d be outnumbered and the Isolde soldiers weren’t well trained compared to Theros. Not to mention the fact that she’d already lost a handful of alliances after the massacre in this throne room. Suddenly, she understood why Harry was doing this, and still, it didn’t make her hate him any less.
She bit her lip and sucked in a deep breath. Harry and Lance seemed to be holding their breath while waiting for her final decision.
“Very well,” she said forcefully. “But I want two thousand men with fleets and strong horses.”
“Deal.” Lance flashed a smug grin and offered his hand in a businesslike manner. She didn’t take it. Amused, he stepped closer. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see Harry flinch as if he was about to attack the Prince right there. She fought the urge to roll her eyes. If he still managed to get jealous maybe he should not have manipulated her into marrying the Prince.
Lance got so close that she could smell the winter from his coat. When he lowered his head, her heart jerked at the thought that he would kiss her in front of Harry, but then his mouth was at her ear, and he whispered, “You really thought you could make him your personal guard and people wouldn’t talk? Grow up, Y/N. Let me help you.”
“I could just take your sword and gut you right here for talking to me like that.”
She could feel a ghost of a smile on his face in response to the threat.
“You can protect him. But I can protect you, Y/N.”
Lance drew back and their eyes locked for a second. His expression remained cold as ice, yet there was rare tenderness to it, or she was really hallucinating.
She didn’t say another word to him. “Harry, come.”
And shoved Lance away before she stormed out of the room.
She kept on walking as Harry’s hurried footsteps echoed behind her. Once they had returned to her bed-chamber, she slammed the door shut and crossed her arms over her chest. The look she was giving him said, ‘Go on. Explain before I kill you.’
“If I stay,” he began, fingering his own belt out of nervousness, “you’ve got to let me help you.”
“You could help me by not offering your head to the enemy on the battlefield.”
“Are you really telling me you would sit behind these walls while your men fight to the death, Y/N?” She blinked at her real name, yet he didn’t notice her reaction or he didn’t care. “I know you’d be on the battlefield and I’m not going to stay here knowing I could lose you any minute.”
“Then you could have talked to me first! You didn’t have to manipulate me into marrying him! You made me feel bad for even considering it and then you went behind my back and–”
He closed the distance between them with two long strides, and she backed against the door with a thump as he cupped her face and kissed her like he had the night before. She didn’t resist him. The kiss warmed their cold lips with one another, and her heartbeats gradually slowed though her anger hadn’t subsided.
He pulled back just enough to look her in the eye. “I do not want you to marry anyone but me. Especially him. But you cannot stand a chance against Calanthe, and the last time she came to see me, she made it clear that she wanted you dead.”
Y/N was taken aback. “She came to you? Did she–”
“My family is safe,” he sighed, “for now, but I don’t think your people will be.” The words made Y/N shudder. Harry went on, “On my way here, I’ve heard so many whispers about how you are illegitimate to the throne. Your people didn’t like Egon but at least it made sense to them that he was the true heir and not you. Their faith is already fragile. Calanthe could easily turn them against you, and you keeping me as your guard will not help.” He thrust his fingers into his hair. “I didn’t only come to say goodbye but also to warn you about Calanthe. I thought I could just move on, but I couldn’t leave you to fight on your own. So please help me and help yourself. But you also knew that, didn’t you? When you agreed to the deal with the Prince, you thought you did it for me, but it was also for your kingdom, love. You know your people need this.”
“I don’t trust Lance,” she whispered, shutting her eyes. “And what were you thinking sneaking into his chamber? He could have killed you. I saw him kill–”
“I know him.”
Y/N’s eyes shot open and widened. “You what?”
Harry pursed his lips, looking rather indifferent, yet she knew he was not. “Well, actually, I know of him. He used to captain a ship and his crew went from kingdom to kingdom to free slaves and recruit them for his own army. He was as much a prince as you are a princess, and therefore, he’s got as much to lose.”
Y/N ground her jaw and threw her arms in the air. “Great. I don’t even know my betrothed used to be a pirate.”
“Don’t call him your betrothed,” Harry said bitterly. “The marriage would be fake.”
She stabbed a finger at his chest. “You should have thought of that before you made me accept his fake proposal.”
Harry opened his mouth, though it seemed like he was out of arguments.
“So you’re saying he can be trusted?” she asked.
He lifted his shoulders. “Honestly, I don’t know. But he could have just killed you and Egon if he wanted Isolde, right? Why bother to go along with a riskier plan unless he’s just as desperate? No offence.”
“None taken.” She rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest.
Harry curled his lips as he nudged her cheek with the tip of his nose like a horse. “Also, I don’t want to be mean but from what I’ve heard, he’s kind of a player. Just so you know. I’m the safe bet here.”
“You’re the least safe thing I’ve done and I’ve duelled my own brother to the death.”
He gasped at her remark and she couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, his arms around her waist.
“More than myself,” she answered.
“Good. Because as long as we’re together, I’ll never let anything bad happen to you.”
Y/N touched his face as she returned the smile. He could promise her the world, but heavy was the head that wore the crown. The royal court was her battlefield, and she would have to make sure nothing bad would ever happen to him.
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EPILOGUE
One year later
It was late-fall in a village deep in the northern forest. The air grew colder and the grey landscape wearier. Kennedy Rowley sat in her house beside the fireplace, holding her first-born in her arms as she hummed a lullaby and began the story of four princes and one hundred kingdoms. She hadn’t got any farther than ‘Once upon a time’ when she heard a knock on the front door. Her husband rushed out from the kitchen, waving his hands about his head to get rid of the smoke of burned food.
The knocking sounded again, more urgently this time. Then came a gruff masculine voice, “I’m here on the command of the Queen of Isolde.”
“Y/N?” Stefan Russo cast his wife a glance. “But the royal wedding is a month away. Why are they here?”
Kenny was just as clueless as he was. She hurried him to open the door, and an Isolde guard heavily stepped in. He was so large he had to duck his head to fit through the door.
“My apology, I didn't mean to disturb you,” he said as soon as he saw the half-asleep child, “but the Queen has arranged a carriage to bring your family to Isolde tonight.”
“Tonight?!” cried Kenny. “It’s so urgent. Is everything all right?”
The soldier’s expression remained stiff although there was a glimpse of worry which he’d done his best to conceal. “I’m afraid not. It’s about the Commander.”
“Harry,” Stefan muttered, exchanging looks of concern with his wife.
“Get your things,” the soldier said. “The horses are waiting outside. I’ll explain everything on the road.”
(END OF BOOK 1)
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Book 2: THE WINTER AND THE CROWN (release date announced soon)
Synopsis:
Winter. A wedding. A war.
Y/N has to protect her kingdom from the enemy from the South and also the love of her life from the ruthlessness of the royal courts. But her destiny is paved with blood and revenge. And as she and Harry set off on another adventure to find the cure for an ancient curse, what they find is much more than they have anticipated.
Meanwhile, Calanthe is scheming to take away everything that Peach holds dear, and with the help of other dark forces, this time she might succeed.
Blood will shed. And the seasons will turn.
210 notes · View notes
acreativeme · 3 years
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Little Dove
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Little Dove
Clinton Skye x Reader
A/N: I don’t know Russian, so I am using google translate. I apologize for any mistakes. Also, there is some triggers in here about kidnapping, sexual assault, and sex trafficking. 
She left a note, along with her phone and her engagement ring.
Clinton,
I’m sorry, but I couldn’t say goodbye in person. I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye and lie to you. I will be gone for a while, so I am not asking you to wait for me. I can’t tell you anything yet, but I will try when I get back. I love you with everything in me. 
Y/N
 Clinton sunk down the wall, his heart breaking as he reread her letter. They had been together for a few years, only recently getting engaged. It took him a few minutes, but he called Jess for support.
...2 Months later…
With the help of her driver, Y/N stepped out of the town car-- the slips of her black bodycon gown showing off her muscular legs. Her hair was held back with silver dagger-like sticks, making it easy for her to hide weapons on her person. A bald man in a tight black suit held out his arm for her to take, escorting her into the ball room.
“Добрый вечер, мэм. Аукцион начнется через тридцать минут.”(Good Evening, Ma’am. The auction will begin in thirty minutes.) He said in a low tone. 
Y/N nodded, “Спасибо.” (Thank you.)
He let her go as they walked through the doorway of the ballroom. She walked up to the bar, ordering a gin and tonic. As she took a little sip, she scanned the room--picking out her targets in the crowd. A Russian human trafficker had kidnapped four undercover CIA agents, so Y/N was here to get them back and take out the traffickers.
She downed her drink, passing it off to a waiter as they walked passed by. She quickly reapplied her lipstick before heading towards her first target. He was standing off to the side, watching the crowd. Y/N acted as if she hadn’t noticed him standing there, to get him to make the first move. 
She watched him scan her from head to toe, smirking as he turned to fully look at her. “Вам нравится то, что вы видите?” (Do you like what you see?) She smirked, still facing away from him.
He smirked, “даже очень.” (Very much so). 
Y/N boldly took his hand, leading him to a door that was off to the side of the ballroom. She knew from studying the floor plans that there was a small coat room that was not being used. With her in front, she was not aware that he had pulled something out of his pocket. As he closed the door, Y/N reached for the dagger that she had strapped to her upper thigh. He wrapped one arm around her from behind, using the other to inject her with a sedative. 
“Goodnight, маленький голубь.’( Goodnight, little dove.) 
...6 months later…
Clinton’s POV
Clinton leaned against the counter, staring off into space-- which is something he’s been doing alot. His thoughts have been shifting towards Y/N, the ex that went missing. Everyone keeps asking how he knew she was missing and hadn’t just left him, and he’d always respond with that he felt it in his soul. He knew with his whole heart that she wouldn’t have left without a good reason. 
Jess stepped into the office with a grave look out his face. “Pictures of missing 16 year old, Irene Romanov, were found on sex trafficking website run by Russian Immigrant Dimitri Petrov.” He signaled Hana to pull up the website. “Many of the girls have been identified as missing in both the US and around Europe…” Jess froze as his eyes locked on one of the girls.
“Y/N…” Clinton whispered as he also locked onto her posting.
Y/N was laying on her back, hair dyed blonde. Her eyes were dull like life had been drained from them. She was in a matching pair of red and white lingerie with white fishnet stockings. There were bruises on her neck, arms, and inner thighs. 
“What the fuck did they do to her?” Kenny stated, anger evident in his voice. 
Hana clicked on the profile. “They say her name is Alyona. She is a ‘submissive and experienced’ lover.” She gagged at the end, as the team turned to look at Clinton. 
His face was unreadable. “I told you.” was all he said as he stormed out of the room.
Y/N’s POV
She looked around the bare room that Dimitri had shoved her into, trying to figure a way out. She had been traded to Dimitri by the man that kidnapped her, who then moved her to America--not realizing that this was her home turf. She observed him as he moved around the warehouse that he turned into a brothel, noticing that he would leave doors open as he rotated girls in and out of the ‘business’ bedrooms. 
Dimitri had a schedule for each girl, like this was some union job, and would rotate out the women after their shift. Y/N, however, was the only girl that he didn’t do that with. He would send in John after John, only giving her small intervals of time to recoup between dates. The only other thing he did different from the other girls was that he didn’t drug her. The man that sold her to him had mentioned that she was a submissive bitch and that he recommends not ‘damaging good goods’ with drugs. 
Dimitri seemed to idolize the man that kidnapped her, so he listened to him about the drugs. Dimitri uses violence to keep her in line, especially when she acts out around the other girls. He would use her as an example to keep the other girls in line, which she would gladly continue to do if it meant she could protect the other girls. 
The only time that Y/N gets to spend time with the other girls is when they shower, as Dimitri forces them to shower together in a prison-like shower area. She will check on them as they pass along the cheap hygiene products, which makes them consider her a guardian angel. There have been multiple times where he has come in to find her holding one of the other girls, which makes him rip the other girl out of her arms and back hand her. 
“Are you ready for your next customer, Alyona? Heard he’s a dark one.” Dimitri stood over her with a dark grin. 
She internally sighed, not wanting to show her true emotions. “Yes, master.” She replied meekly. She moved to be sitting on the edge of the bed with her knees together but feet apart. 
He leaned out the doorway to signal for the customer to come. “You may enter, Sir. Your entertainment for the evening is ready.”
Y/N had to hold back a gasp as Clinton Skye walked through the door. “Good evening, sir. Thank you for accepting me as your entertainment.” She recited, just as she had been instructed. 
Clinton nodded, trying to school his face. “She’ll do just fine.”
Dimitri nodded, shutting the door as he walked out of the room. Clinton and Y/N stared at each other, not knowing what to say to each other. After a moment, Y/N launched herself into his arms. She sobbed into his arms as he held her tightly to his chest.
He let her bury herself into his chest. “Shhh. I got you, love.” He whispered into her hair. 
She pulled away to look at him. “I messed up, Clinton. I lied to you about my past and my relationship with the agency.  I took a mission that I knew was going to go wrong.”
“Don’t think about it now. We’ve got to focus on getting you and other girls out of here.”  He whispered darkly, shooting the door a hard look. “We’ve got a team surrounding the building and snipers on the surrounding buildings.”
Y/N took a deep breath, hardening herself. “You are right.” She brushed the tears away, “did you bring in any weapons?” 
“Y/N, I don’t want you to get involved. You’ve been through enough, let me take care of you.” He looked at her with big eyes, wanting her to listen to him.
She sighed, knowing that she was not in any shape to take down these criminals. “Okay, we will do it your way.” 
Clinton kissed her forehead. “It’s a go!” he whispered into his mic. 
Clinton made sure to put himself between Y/N and the door. He knew that Dimitri was going to try and come after Y/N, having heard some henchman talking about how she was going to be their golden goose. He promised himself, after seeing her picture on that website, that would protect her with his last breath. He also promised not to tell her, because she would lecture him about how she can protect herself. 
Within moments of the team storming the castle, Dimitri was throwing open the door- half expecting them to be in the middle of having sex. He froze as Clinton aimed his gun at his forehead. “Freeze.” 
“You’re a cop!” He yelled, charging at them.
Clinton fired his weapon, only after aiming for Dimitri’s knee. Dimitri fell forward with a scream. “I told you to freeze.” 
Kenny came in shortly after the gunshot, gun raised and ready. “Clinton, you guys okay?”
Clinton nodded, “Yeah, the idiot moved when I told him to freeze. I’m going to let you cuff him, while I take Y/N to the ambulance.”
Dimitri looked up, confused on who Y/N was. “Whose Y/N?”
She finally stepped from behind Clinton. “Me. My name is not Alyona.” She walked forward, trying not to show that she was scared. “You are not only going to be charged for crimes at a national level, but an international level also.”
Dimitri smeared at her, laughing under his breath. “You went from cop to whore. What an upgrade.”
Without thinking, Y/N slugged him. Clinton and Kenny jumped into action, and pulled them apart. “At least I won’t be someone’s bitch in prison.”
Clinton pulled her out of the room, not wanting to subject her to that creeps presents. “Come on, let’s get you to the hospital.”
Y/N just nodded, becoming increasingly more hollow the farther away they got from her room.
... At the hospital…
Y/N’s POV
Y/N numbly as the SANE nurses poked, prodded, and took photos of her. She didn’t make a sound, no matter how much they made her uncomfortable. They hadn’t allowed Clinton into the exam room as they weren’t married. When they asked her to lay on the table, Y/N closed her eyes tightly-- trying to not picture the numerous men that had taken advantage of her. 
“This may feel a little bit uncomfortable, but we need to do a pelvic exam.” The nurse said, wanting to keep her clued into everything that was going on.
“I know.” She whispered, laying back and spreading her legs.
Everything goes black for the remainder of the exam, not that Y/N needed to pay too much attention. When she opened her eyes, Clinton was standing next to her-- talking with a doctor. 
“... she is going to need a lot of therapy and patience. We are going to prescribe anti-depressant, anti-anxiety, and sleeping medications as she is going to have some trauma from what she experienced.” The doctor explained, not even bothering to look at her.
“You know, if you are going to talk about me, you better man up and look at me.” Y/N stated, hoarsely. “I will not be treated like I am less than human, because I am a sexual assault victim.”
Clinton squeezed her hand, wanting to bring her comfort. “Y/N, he is just trying to help you heal.”
She rolled her eyes, reverting back to silence. The doctor shared a look with Clinton, before stepping out of the room. “I know that you’ve been through a lot, but you don’t need to be snippy with the doctor.”
She glared at him. “He was acting cold, not caring about my feelings. I have feelings, Clinton. I am not just some piece of meat.” She cried.
Clinton pulled her into his arms. “I know, sweetie.” He rubbed her head. “You’ve been through something horrific, it is going to take some time to properly heal.”
She looked up at him with big eyes. “I don’t want to do this alone.” She whimpered.
“You won’t be alone, love. I promise.” 
A/N: There will not be a part two. I don’t feel comfortable writing a 2nd part.
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quillsareswords · 3 years
Text
Smoke: VII | Stay Awhile
SUMMARY: After vanishing for four years, you return to the place you once called home, to the people you once called family. We all carry our baggage in different ways, using different techniques to hide it. You just happen to hide it in cigarette smoke.
CHAPTER SUMMARY: While the antique book shop on Fifth Avenue may have burned down long  before your return, the owner you never forgot is still making an  impact on your life, and she doesn’t even know it.
SERIES WARNINGS: cigarette smoking; underage drinking; gang activity; violence; swearing; blood; self-hate
MASTER LISTS in BIO
    The air is warmer now, than it was a few hours ago. Your windows are open, floors freshly swept, dishes freshly washed, bed freshly made. Outside is crisp and clean, and you've decided the inside should be too.
    Only a lamp illuminates the room, the setting sun does the rest, leaving the corners of the room bathed in comforting shadows.
   You’re in the middle of sorting out the good food in your refrigerator from the bad when he arrives.
   Three knocks exactly, no particular rhythm. You leave the decidedly shamefully rotted takeout in the trash and close the heavy white door before you answer the door. “Hey,” you greet fluidly, welcoming him inside without a second thought.
   “Hello,” he replies, stepping past you to escape the chill in your building’s halls, only to be sorely disappointed in your home. “Is your heating out?” he asks pointedly. You note his coat is buttoned, behind the stack of five books he holds in his arms.
   You stare blankly for a moment, before you shut and lock the door behind him. “No,” you answer slowly. “I thought it was pretty warm out, so I opened the windows. Are you cold?”
   He doesn’t answer verbally, just rolls his eyes. He makes his way to your ratty leather couch. “Anyway, I brought your books.” He sets the the stack of literature in the coffee table as he sits down.
   You nod. “Thanks. For driving all the way over, I mean.” You pick up an empty white mug from the end table by your recliner. “Can I get you anything? I can put the kettle on, if you want tea.”
   He declines, and watches you pour yourself a fresh cup of coffee. Then, you take your seat in the recliner.
   You pull the stack of books across the table, curiously skimming the titles on the spines. Griffin’s Castle, The Dragon Queen, Catcher in the Rye, Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children. An odd group of books, you think. At the top, you open the cover of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.
   “Where were you today?” Damian barked from the bottom the tree. You peered down at him from your claimed branch, marking your page with a finger. He looked angry, messenger bag still slung across his torso, glaring up at you with his hands on his hips.
   You rolled your eyes and stubbed out a cigarette, flick it away so he doesn’t catch it. “Jesus, you sound like Nick,” you gruffed. “I’ve been here, mostly. What’s it to you?”
   He threw you an incredulous look. “You were supposed to cover for me in Lit, remember?”
   You heaved a heavy breath. “No, actually, I forgot.” The edge of annoyance to your voice is gone. “Sorry.”
   You heard him grumble something about you never listening, as he started climbing up to his branch, next to yours. He situated himself there, and hung his bag on the chopped stub above him. “So, what? You spent your whole day up in this tree?”
   “Yeah, pretty much.”
   “What are you reading?” He reached over and pushes your book one way, to read the cover. “The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland?”
   You nodded, rough bark of the tree scraping against your scalp and probably knotting your hair. “Yeah, Granny Crockett loaned it to me. She said it’s a crime that I haven’t read it already.”
    “Sorry about the dust. They’ve been sitting in a box in my closet for some time.”
   You gaze shoots up to meet his. “The dust-? Oh, yeah. It’s fine.” You brush off the thin gray film from the title.
   “Alfred sent this, as well,” he adds, pulling a piece of paper from the inner pocket in his jacket. “He thought you’d want it, for whatever reason. Found it when he was dusting, apparently.”
   You accept the thin paper and turn it over. It isn’t a piece of paper at all, actually. It’s a photograph, of you, and Damian, and Nick, all dressed up and ready for the Freshman Dance.
   You smile down at it, shaking your head at the bright purple, sequin speckled dress your past self wears. “I can’t believe you let me go out in that thing.”
   “I did no such thing,” he argues. “I told you the sequins were too much, but you wouldn’t listen. You never did, anyway.”
   You laughed. “I’m the one who doesn’t listen? Which one of us took Rebecca Tacks?”
  He shook his head. “You encouraged the whole ordeal. I would have much preferred to stay home and beat you at checkers until you flipped the board,” he countered, leaning back against the cracked leather.
   “I told you to get a date, not ask out the rudest person you could find!” you defended. “I told you the night would end in tears, now didn’t I?”
   “Maybe you were in tears, but I sure wasn’t,” he chuckled.
   “Only because you didn’t think the junior class president dumping green punch all over the pageant girl was as funny as I did!”
   You left it at that. A long moment stretched on, both of you lost in quiet laughter and memories of screaming teenage girls and a howling student body.
   You stare fondly at the photo still pinched between your fingers. You wonder what prom was like. You wonder who he took.
   “On second thought,” Damian says suddenly, retaking your attention, “I’d appreciate a cup of tea.”
   You blink. You don’t just hear the request, but the ask lying between the lines.
   Can I stay awhile?
   “Really?”
   He nods. “If it isn’t a problem.”
   You smile. “Of course it isn’t.”
   The corners of his lips tilt. “Do you have any-?”
   “Earl Gray,” you say confidently, practically jumping out of your chair, “two scoops of sugar and fresh lemon.”
   When you look back at him from across your kitchen island, he’s staring at you like he’s seen a ghost.
   You grin teasingly. “Do you know how many times I had to make it for you when we were younger? It’s practically ingrained into my memory.” You turn away to get a mug down from the cabinet. You don’t dare mention the number of times you made an extra cup because the smell reminded you of home that first year you were gone.
   While you stand in the kitchen, your back to him, as you wait for the kettle to reheat, he steals the moment to look around your apartment. He hadn’t really gotten the chance last time.
   It isn’t a place he ever imagined you to live.
    It’s nothing like the place you dreamed about growing up. You always spoke of a big balcony, high ceilings. Big windows, but some that could be left open in the spring and the fall to flood the place with fresh air. You wanted large rooms, an open floor plan, and pictures of friends and family on every wall. You wanted a place that felt like home, with soft furniture and plenty of places for visitors to sit. Somewhere big, but not so big that it felt lonely when no one was there with you. Somewhere to go after a long day where you could relax. Somewhere warm, where your family would come to visit for the holidays, wasn’t so close to home that they’d visit too often.
   This is not that place. This place is dark, the wallpaper is peeling in patches, the ceiling is cracked in sport. It smells vaguely of must, beneath the air freshener. Your furniture, while sentimental, is old and warn and falling apart. There’s no room for entertainment, the ceilings are low, the windows are small, the kitchen is dingy. Worst of all, it doesn’t feel like a home.
   With a quick glance, yes, the place has a specific feel that he can only attribute to you, but upon further inspection, it tells an entirely different story. It reminds him more of a safehouse than a home. Somewhere Jason would store space weaponry in a neighboring city. He can count the number of personally decorations on one hand. The more he looks around, the deeper dread burrows beneath his skin. Anything sentimental could be cleared out and packed up in less than an hour.
   Your words from the cafe echo in his mind. When you said you were thinking about leaving, he didn’t think you meant at the drop of a hat.
   Thick glass hitting wood jerks him from his thoughts. Your warm smile is familiar in a way he can’t ignore.
   “It’s hot, so give it a minute,“ you warn. “I know my interior design skills aren’t the greatest, but I didn’t think it looked that bad, all things considered,” you try sparking a conversation, but you look a little nervous. You must have caught him staring.
   He shakes his head. “It looks fine.” He feels as though he’s about to choke on words he isn’t ready for you to hear, so he looks around in a tempered frenzy for something to divert your attention. A framed picture on the wall between your windows is just what he needs. “Who is that?”
   You don’t have to look at the picture to know which one it is. You’d debated on hanging that one. You smile sadly, eyeing it anyway. You swallow thickly, and to stall for a little time, you get up to get it.
   You take the flimsy wooden frame down, gently, as if your afraid it will break under your gaze. You hold out the 7x10 photograph to him.
   He takes it, gingerly staring it down while you find your seat again. It’s an image of you and a man, standing together in front of a grand fountain. His arm is hooked around your shoulders, both of you grinning happily. Something stirs in his chest- he doesn’t remember the last time he’s seen you smile like that. The man his tall, dark skin, black hair, kind eyes. A tattoo is peeking out beneath the sleeve of a denim jacket.
   “His name was Kennedy,” you finally relay. “Kennedy Walter. I always called him Kenny.” You sniffle, and decide to stall a little longer. “I was living in Detroit when we met. I was working as a bouncer at a club. Had a nice little apartment with massive windows on one wall and a loft bedroom on the other. There was this nice little theater down the street from me. They had a theme for every night of the week, and sometimes they’d run these marathons of classics where you could buy one ticket and sit for the whole day.”
   You’re rambling, and he knows it. It’s something you used to do when you were upset: talk about the good things before the bad. He glaces at you. Your voice sounds strained. You’re staring at the coffee table, but he knows you aren’t really looking at the wood. “Were you and he . . ?”
   “Engaged,” you smile. “We were engaged. But, um, a little over a year ago, I was, uh- I got a call while I was at work.” Your voice breaks, eyes dropping to your lap. You pick up your tea and take a few gulps to relieve he tension of grief. “There had been a car accident.”
   He nods morosely, staring down at the man in the image. He must have been something, to have caught your eye. You barely dated through high school. “I’m sure he was a good man.”
   You nod. “He was. I had to leave all my furniture when I moved, because of him,” you laugh, and it doesn’t sound forced, but it’s dying. “I had this ugly orange couch, you see. God, it was such an ugly color. It was only thirty dollars at Goodwill, which is why I got it. It didn’t match anything else in the house, literally. But it grew on me, so I never replaced it. It was like that, um- what was it? That stupid stuffed cat I got from Amusement Mile, remember? On Spring Break?”
   He nods. You’d enlisted him to help you get it. It was quite possibly the ugliest toy he’d ever seen in his life, but it had a place on your bed for the following two years.
   “Yeah, it was like that. He always teased me about it, but after awhile it grew on him too. We named it Fungus, because it grew on people.” You laugh again, a little looser this time. “God that couch was hideous.”
   He smiles. It falters though, because he understands now that you weren’t just gone. You weren’t away from Gotham. All this time, you’d been building a new life. You’d been living, not running. But none of it had anything to do with him.
   “If you don’t mind,” he starts, quietly, “why did you leave Detroit? You talk about living there as if it were a fairy tale.”
   You take another gulp of tea. “Because that’s what it was,” you answer hoarsely. “It was too perfect. And then Kenny was gone. And my apartment was too big for me.” You stare down at your hands, fidgeting with your fingers. “And I missed home.”
   His chest feels tight. He doesn’t really know why. Or maybe it’s more than he isn’t willing to admit how much it hurts to see you so pained over this. He swallows it. “Home?”
   You nod hesitantly. “Gotham. I grew up here, ya know? You and I owned these streets back in the day,” you chuckle. You steal a look at his face, but he isn’t smiling. “I missed you. I don’t think I ever told you that.”
   When you look again, he looks somewhere between stricken and conflicted.  His face is pinched as he stared through your picture. “No. You didn’t.”
   “Well, I did. I missed you a lot. And your family. And mine. I didn’t want to leave you, Damian. You have to know that.”
   His body tenses, and you feel his energy shift. “No, I don’t. You left me in a burning building-”
   “I know,” you interrupt quietly. “And I shouldn’t have. I should have kept a better hold of your hand, I should have drove you home, I should have told you everything that night. I should have done a lot of things. But I didn’t, and I’m trying to apologize for them before I lose the chance.”
   That stops him. He relaxes into your couch again. “Before what?”
   You blink slowly, turning your gaze toward the window across from you, which connects to the fire escape. “There’s a reason I had to leave, Damian. Shit happens.”
   His eyes soften. His mind races, realizations dawning. He opens his mouth to reply, but the sharp beeping of his phone cuts him off.
   He answers it without moving from the couch. “Hello?”
   Your apartment is so quiet that you hear Bruce on the other end. “We have an emergency. We need you home. Now.”
   His eyes meet yours. He seems remorseful. “I’m on my way.”
   You divert your attention, excusing yourself to the kitchen with your half empty mug. You hear him pocket his phone and the remaining leather of your couch groan as he stands.
   “I’m sorry,” he says. “If I could-”
   “I know,” you assure. “Probably best anyway,” you brush off, “I'd probably be a blubbering mess of runny mascara and tears if we kept talking about this any longer.” You’re only partly joking.
   He looks at you for a few moments. Standing in your ratty apartment, between your living room and your front door, staring. His eyebrows are slouched together as he works his jaw.
   You turn around at the sound of approaching footsteps, but you’re just a hair too late. You collide with a broad chest, long, warm arms wrapping around you tightly. You’re overhwelmed by he wonderful smell of leathery cologne and bourbon shampoo. Your brain short circuits and crashes like a 2007 laptop trying to run The Sims.
   “I’m glad you’re home,” he says slowly, genuinely, surely.
   He’s gone before you can react. By the time you’re ready to hug him back, your front door is already clapping shut.
   With your apartment once again left in silence and you to your own devices, you brace yourself against the counter, mind whirling thoughts a million miles a minute and heart hammering so hard that you can hear the blood rushing in your ears.
TAGS: @howcanibreathewithnozaire @avis-writeshq @mello-10 @ukuleleatnight @chikorita-stuff @idkmanicantenglish
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llogllady99 · 3 years
Text
Crimson Red : Chapter 1
Scholar’s Mate
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CHARACTERS | Levi, Erwin, Petra, Hange, Moblit, Mike, Nanaba, Eld, Oluo, Gunther, Kenny, Erwin’s Father, Kuchel, Frieda Reiss, Nile Dok, Yelena, Marie RELATIONSHIPS | Levi x Erwin GENRE | Mystery, Thriller, Romance, Dark Academia IV | Blood and gore, Blood and violence, Alternate universe - modern setting/high school/ boarding school, angst and fluff and smut, knife kink, knife play, drama & romance, eventual romance, eventual smut, emotional manipulation, cults, rituals SUMMARY | Sina Academy of Excellence and Inquiry is the best boarding school in all of England, producing over time leaders of Nations and outstanding personalities in society as well as being the perfect environment for your child to flourish in, spending his time with specially trained staff to support his need and wonderful, well behaved peers like him. We only have two rules: don't go in the woods and do not try to go through locked doors. From the statement above one would have assumed that Sina was the perfect school and that the rules that were imposed were just for their children's safety, but as Levi joins the school at the beginning of his senior year, he uncovers a secret so putrid and morbid that will leave him scared for life. That is...if he manages to make it out alive.
Chapter song: Devil’s trill sonata
August 23rd 1996, London
Deformed, lazy, pungent smelling circles rose above her head, as Kuchel exhaled the smoke the cigarette she was currently holding between her long, bony, alabaster fingers provided her with. She did not smoke that often, only when she was under a rather stressful situation. Today, her son would be departing from home in order to attend a boarding school across country. It wasn’t that she did not trust him or have enough faith in him, but since his brother announced Levi’s immediate enrolment, a feeling of distress had started to grow in the pit of her stomach, becoming larger and larger everyday, until it finally managed to take upon her entire being. Thence, the obnoxious amount of cigarette butts lying around carelessly and forgotten on the balcony of her victorian terraced house. Taking one last drag out of the device, which would inevitably bring upon her death someday, she dropped it to the tiled floor and not sparing a second glance its way, stomped it until the electric orange that lined its edge turned a dark ashy brown. Further covering up herself with her long brown coat and shivering slightly from the chill morning, Kuchel made her way back inside the house where the sound of piano keys being pressed consistently in formation of a slow and disturbing song grew louder and louder as she approached her son’s room.
The door was opened and inside a large piano could be spotted by the large and covered with white and blue curtains window. Sited at the instrument was Levi, pressing the keys with precision, his brows furrowed in concentration.
“Devil’s trill sonata?” Kuchel asked, sitting down on the small sofa in front of a coffee table where an unfinished game of chess laid, its pieces shining with the bright light seeping in from the windows. If she didn’t know any better she might’ve said that this was a new chess set, but with her son’s obsession with keeping everything clean and organised, something rarely got in poor condition.
“Indeed, mother. Took me a while to learn it. Care to share your opinion?” Levi replied not taking his eyes off the keyboard.
“It’s exquisite, like every sound your hands ever produced on that piano.” She answered, leaning further into the soft cushions of the couch. As if to prove her wrong, Levi pressed the wrong key and unbalanced the whole song, losing his concentration and ultimately his rhythm. Sighing in frustration, he got up and joined his mother on the couch.
“And just when I think I’ve got it, I mess it up.” Levi fretted, then glanced at the unfinished game of chess. “Humour me mother and grant me the honour of one last game of chess before we depart.”
“Certainly,” she replied then helped her son rearrange the pieces on the board. She chose white so she could dictate the conduct of the game: a simple scholar���s mate from her son as they were already late to the station. ‘E4 e5, Qh7 Nc6, Bc4 Nf6, Qxf7’ , Levi checkmated her, stood up and sought her hand, also bring her to her feet shortly after.
“I think it would have been better if we postponed the game, winning in such a desolate manner almost has me furious. However, I am well aware that we are already late to the station. Please lead the way mother.” Kuchel smiled at her boy, of course it would infuriate him, this game was nothing like the hour long matches they used to share, her being the first that introduced the game to Levi.
“Levi dear, you never did tell me why you quit competition, you would have become a master by now.” Kuchel said from the driver’s seat, looking shortly in Levi’s way. She personally offered to drive her son to the station as she wanted to spent every last moment with him before he was gone. She was sure to miss him dearly, and he would miss her too, though he won’t show it because he would be too embarrassed to do so.
“I’m quite confident you know, but I will tell you one final time: Isabell enjoyed the game and it feels wrong competing, something that she never got to experience as the rug was pulled from beneath her feet before she even had a chance.” Levi turned away and looked out the window, slightly fidgeting with his hands. “What do you think the school will be like? You attended a boarding school yourself, so please tell me.”
“That was a long time sweetie, a lot has changed since then, but I will tell you this: the bond you will form with your soon to be friends will last a life time.” Kuchel replied, not taking her eyes off the road. After a few more turns they arrived at the train station. It was finally time to say goodbye. Levi regarded her with one of his warmest smiles and wrapped her in a tight hug. “I will see you soon, mother. Take care.” And just like that he was gone, his small form disappearing behind the high arched red pillars of the station, the small black suitcase with the last of his belongings trailing behind him. His other luggage had been sent before hand. Kuchel wiped a tear from her cheek and got back in the car, heading in the direction of the closest high class bar.
-
To say the train was packed would be an understatement, every wagon was agglomerated by students just like him chatting animatedly about their summers, their high pitched voices ringing through the train, worsening his already present headache. He decided to try another wagon, so pushing past the intermediate hall’s door, he entered the isle of one with cabins. Every single one of them was packed with the same loud and obnoxious students, except the one from the very end. A cabin whose occupant was a girl with messy brown hair, tied up carelessly into a ponytail, square glasses sitting gently on the tip of her slightly down turned nose. She was mindlessly eating from a bag of chips as she pondered over whatever it was that she was looking at through the compartment’s window. Levi slid the door open and cleared his throat to get the girl’s attention. The girl shook her head, startled a bit by his presence then cocked an eyebrow his way, urging him to say something.
“Do you mind?”
“Mind what?” The brunette replied, her voice melodic and with just the right amount of deepness to it.
“Me sitting here.” Levi replied awkwardly, faking indifference and adopting a bored looking expression. He was never good with people and interactions like this distressed him immensely.
“Not at all, please take a sit.” The girl smiled and gestured for the sit in front of him.
“Thanks.” Levi hoisted his luggage up and dumped it on the support space above their heads, before proceeding to sit across from her. For a few minutes none of them spoke a word, instead switching their gaze between the landscape present beyond the window and themselves when they thought the other wasn’t looking.
“Hange.” The girl suddenly muttered.
“Excuse me?” Levi switched his gaze towards her, tilting his head to the side bewildered.
“Name’s Hange.” The girl, Hange, rapidly spoke, seemingly experiencing the same overwhelming emotions that came with meeting new people as him.
“Nice meeting you Hange, my name is Levi.” He extended her hand out to her and after a moment’s hesitation the brunette shook his hand.
"You headin’ to Sina?”
“Indeed, I am. I assume you do too?” He said, his eyes fixing her uniform: a white and freshly starched button up with a navy blue skirt, tailored to sit just above the knee, and a purple tie.
“Yeah.” Hange replied awkwardly then started fidgeting with her hands a bit more.
“The students screaming like they own the place do too?” He tried to ask, to further stir the conversation.
“Yeah, they are. My friends were also supposed to be here but one of them will be coming tomorrow and the rest are already at the academy.”
“So soon? Wow, I barely came today because it was required and because of the orientation day tomorrow.” Levi was being unusually vocal. Maybe he was just trying to soothe the other girl’s nerves, but he also felt that he could trust her, weirdly enough. At his affirmation, Hange’s face lighted up, and all traces of embarrassment seemed to have fled from her face as she now began talking earnestly. Orientation day was an opportunity for the students to mingle with other houses, or factions as she like to call them, and meet their professors, explore the school, and if they weren’t already be sorted into a house. Hange also made sure to enumerate all the teachers present, emphasising on someone with the name of Frieda Reiss, the math teacher and Nile Dok, the history teacher that apparently made very good jokes and his lessons were always pleasant for the students, being one of the few moments of relaxation throughout their day.
“What house are you in Levi?”
“That I certainly don’t know, I suppose I am to be sorted.”
“Yeah, well the housing system is pretty fucked up if you ask me. They organise us based on our personality type.”
“Is that a bad thing? It doesn’t seem to be, I would be quite content with being placed in a house with personalities similar to mine, makes the whole socialising thing so much easier.”
“Sure, but you wouldn’t be stepping outside your comfort zone,” retorted Hange. “Not to mention the discrimination against those who are considered “less special” are made.”
“I believe that if we were all to be the same, the world would surely become quite insipid.”
“If everyone shared your opinion, the school would be a much more better place.”
“Please explain the housing system to me, Hange.” Her gaze settling once again on him from where it was directed out the window, she began explaining. The housing system was based on the personality types of people and the roles which they played in society, making it easier for the staff to each of their individual needs. There were four houses. The first was Boethiah house, where architects, logicians, commanders, and debaters would reside. Its signature colour was purple, symbolising the high intellect its students possessed. The second house was Antheia, where advocates, mediators, protagonists, and campaigners found their place. Represented by the colour green, the house was known for its social and communicative students. The third was Martell house, which gave place to the logisticians, defenders, executives, and consuls, the indigo blue colour signifying their nurturing and loyal nature. The last of the houses was Lannister, housing the virtuosus, adventurers, entrepreneurs, and entertainers. The people in this house were fun and full of humour, the colour yellow revealing their outgoing nature. The houses were named by the four founders of the school, respectively Phoibe Boethiah, Panacea Martell, Caelum Antheia, Kestrel Lannister.
“Hange I’m sorry to interrupt you but this whole thing seems very Harry Potter to me, and don’t let me get started on the names, they sound right out of a fantasy novel.” Levi snorted, amused by his new school.
“Yeah, but the school was founded in 1000 AD, imagine the names they had then.” Hange replied, huffing out a laugh.
“I assume you’re from Boethiah?” He said, jerking his chin in the direction of her purple tie.
“Yeah, we are the smallest house as our personalities are so rare. I wonder what house they’ll place you in. Did you take the test?”
“Yeah, when I took my entrance exam a few months ago, something about a psychological evaluation.” And with that their conversation ended, instead each of them turning their attention to their forever changing surroundings, vibrant green meadows and flowery fields slowly turning into dull, grey moors as the sun above then started to set, orange, red, yellow, and orange blending with the dark blue the night brought along.
-
At the academy, in the encrimsoned light of the headmaster’s office, Erwin Smith stood proudly  with his hands behind his back watching from the giant circular window over the school’s gates in anticipation of the students’ arrival for the new trimester.
“You did quite a good job last year, Erwin. I expect the same this year.” Arcturus Smith, Erwin’s father and also the headmaster, spoke from his dark oak desk in the middle of the room, breaking the silence that had settled over the office. The blonde turned his attention to his father and bowed his head in appreciation and assurance. Arcturus bent slightly over the desk, his chin now resting in the palm of his hands.
“Please come take a seat. Let me introduce you to this year’s targets.”
“I was actually questioning myself when you were going to introduce them to me.” Erwin said, as he made to take a sit across his father. The man pushed two files in his direction, both of them stamped with red ink that spelled “CLASSIFIED”. Carefully, he picked up the first one and opened it. The picture of a redheaded girl with short hair stood in front of him.
“Nifa Thompson,” he read out loud. He eyed his father expectingly.
“She’s a sophomore and you have until September 21st, think you can handle it?” Arcturus cocked his eyebrow. “The girl isn’t very sociable and I’m sure some undeserved attention from the school’s head boy and number one bachelor will send her flying over the moon.” Erwin sighed and shook his head, then after a moment’s reconsideration looked up at his father and approved. The next file was about a new boy by the name of Levi Ackerman, he had short raven hair styled in an undercut, piercing blue-silver eyes, and a bored, impassive expression. He doubted he would be an easy target but he was up for a challenge. Looking up at his father, Erwin smirked.
“This one is perfect father. Blood type O and INTJ Personality type. He’s a gem. His mother is an alcoholic, his uncle is nowhere to be found, and he has no other close relatives. No one's going to miss him when he's gone. ” Now he laughed. Arcturus eyes shone with satisfaction.
“Just perfect for this winter’s sacrifice. And guess what? It’s also going to be a full moon, just like you always wanted. Maybe this year I’ll let you do the honourifics. That is, if everything goes as planned.” Then the headmaster leaned down in his chair and adopting again his usual cold demeanour, he said, “You are dismissed, son. Please go and welcome our students. I wish you a good year, full of achievements and perfect scores.
Erwin bowed and left the office.
-
As Levi walked through the massive iron gates of the school, he immediately gawked. Sina was like nothing he had seen. To put it simply: the school was spectacular. Touched by gothic architecture, the building displayed pointed arches lighted by golden yellow lamps from below, flying buttresses, and embellished colonnades. One feature that particularly stood out to Levi were the large lion statuettes that stood firmly place on each side of the enormous front staircase that started from the yard in which they were currently walking in, and that had a beautiful lotus pooled white marble fountain, and ended right beneath two high arched oak doors. At the gate they were met with a teacher, a women in her thirties that had piercing blue-purple eyes and ebony black hair that fell flawlessly on her navy blue Tudor coat, who escorted them inside the school.
The entry gave way to a long and wide hallway with vaulted ceiling and intermittently placed pillars. A few feet from each other hung golden chandeliers lightning their way as they headed in the direction the teacher was leading them in. High up in the ceiling there was stained glass through which the moon’s light slipped in, almost unnoticeably.
In the dining room there were four long tables each placed parallel to each other, the ceiling was painted with frescoes, beautiful biblical images. The professors’ dinning table was in an adjacent room, being separated by one of those pointed arches Levi had seen outside. Similar to the hallway, the dinning room also had stained glass, one particular piece stood out to Levi as it was the image of Jesus himself painted on red and blue glass, slightly highlighted by the moon’s light, whose outline could be made through the blue glass that composed Jesus’s robe. Truly spectacular. Even though he was just as rich as everyone attending here, he had never seen such a school. His last school was also private, but instead had modern architecture with the sparing of a few buildings such as the chapel or assembly hall.
“Please leave your luggage by the entrance and go take a seat at the table assigned to your house specifically. Those of you who have not been assigned a house yet please go and stand by the teachers’ table as the headmaster and the other staff will join us shortly and place you where they think fits you best. I’m Frieda Reiss and I will be your math teacher this trimester.”
Shortly after, the staff made their way to their table and as everyone was seated and quieted down, Arcturus, the headmaster delivered his annual welcoming speech and turned to the fresh meat waiting patiently and awkwardly into a corner.
“Ah I suppose I am to assign each of you your house, very well then come on here don’t be shy.” The group made their way once more in the middle of the dinning room. All of the eyes were on them, the other students waiting just as nervously as them to see who they would be welcoming in their house next. The headmaster rummaged through his black Tudor coat and pulled out a piece of yellow, coffee stained paper and started reading aloud:
“Emma Williams goes to Lannister.” A blonde petite freshman girl made her way to the table on the far off right of the room and proceeded to sit down at the table with the other students, who were cheering and clapping exasperatingly, excited for their new member.
“Jane Walker to Martell,” again, a freckled redheaded girl made her way to one of the middle tables on the left, also welcomed by the cheering of the other members and quietly sat down with a smile on her face, clearly satisfied with the choice.
“Hmm, Levi Ackermann, an interesting name for someone British. Your assignment has been a hard one as the test refused to reveal anything concrete, but after a long dispute among all members of the faculty, we decided to assign you to Boethiah as an architect!” Arcturus beamed, extending his hands and widening his eyes as he bore Levi with his predatory gaze. The boy smiled then made his way to the table in the far off left end of the dinning room. His eyes searched involuntary for Hange, who was seated at the middle already on her feet and waving him over ecstatically.
“Oh my god Levi! I can’t believe you’re an architect!! I never would have guessed! Come have a sit don’t just stand there.” Levi took a sit beside her as the brunette shuffled to the side to make him space. Everyone was looking at him, throwing glances and misplaced whispers to their colleagues. Levi only smiled in their direction and looked around the table, his eyes stopping on a fiery strawberry blonde girl in front of him that was burning holes in him with her gaze. They stared at each other, none making a step towards the other. Hange was talking about something in the background but he didn’t turn to pay attention, refusing to break eye contact with the girl. Eventually, with a puff the girl relinquished and extended her hand over the table,
“Petra,” she said. Levi took her hand and with a smirk told her his name. And just like that Levi made two friends at the Academy already, chatting animatedly with them over dinner. At some point, someone placed a hand over his shoulder. Somewhat startled, the raven flinched then turn to look for the hand’s owner, a blonde and well built boy with a cold stare was fixing him with his sapphire eyes, a lop sided grin present on his face.
“Erwin Smith, I came here to give you an official greeting to our school,” pulling Levi to his feet, he forcefully shook his hand and with a forced grin continued, “I am the head boy here and I am in charge of the students, if you have any concern or question about anything by all means come to me and I will do my best to support you and grant the answers you seek. Welcome to Sina Academy of Excellence and Inquiry, Levi Ackerman.” And with that Erwin dropped his hand and after placing a hand on his shoulder, walked away retaking his seat at the head of their obscenely long table, disappearing out of his sight as he took a sit back down. A rather interesting start to what he reckoned would be an equally interesting year.
Notes:
I do not own Attack on titan or any of the characters in the show or related to it!!
I really hoped you like it, if you did please stick around as there will be more where that came from!
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Text
Surprising Too Late Part I
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Part 1
Nick
           “Matt, hand me that shelf.” My brother and I were practically dripping in sweat as we helped our dad put in a partition wall in the garage that had once been our home gym. It still was, technically, but we’d moved some of the pieces around to make room for a new purpose.
           Y/N’s birthday was in a week, and we had a surprise for her. When we’d met almost nineteen years ago—God, had it been that long—she’d been an art student. There were so many times when she’d beg the two of us to sit for sketches. I remembered the first time she showed me one of her paintings. It was a breathtakingly beautiful self-portrait. She’d given it to me as a present on our first anniversary. But in the years that followed that gift, our wife spent less and less time chasing her joy of art. It was as if the moment that Mattie was born, Y/N set aside everything except for our newborn daughter and us.
           “Is that going to be big enough?” he replied, holding out a piece of varnished and polished wood.
           Our dad poked his head around the corner. He was working outside, making sure that the window AC unit was sealed. “What are you putting on it?”
           I pointed to a spread of jars filled with a variety of paintbrushes and tubes of acrylic paint along with a bento box Kenny had given her where she kept her chalk. Dad looked between the objects and the shelf in Matt’s hands before he nodded.
           “Yeah, just tack an extra screw at the back of the bracket top and bottom.”
           I grinned and dug into my pocket for two more screws. “This is going so much better than the swing set.”
           Dad practically cackled. “You two helped me build your ring when you were teenagers. How you couldn’t follow some simple instructions is beyond me.”
           “To be fair,” Matt said as he passed over the electric screwdriver and the level. “We were stubborn.”
           “You were showing off,” Dad called back.
           “True,” I snorted. “Matt, hold this down.”
Matt
           It was hard to keep a straight face in the days leading up to Y/N’s birthday. We spent those final days in a panic. We ended up having to be in Jacksonville an extra day for a taping, and we ended up making panicked calls to our dad to get some final hardware stuff handled. From Friday to Saturday night, I don’t think either my brother or I slept more than a few hours. We took turns keeping our wife occupied while the other slipped away to the other house with the kids or to the garage to hang shelves or photos or art.
           I spent Saturday night—the night before her birthday—going through boxes of drawings the kids had done over the years. Nick had gone out that morning and picked up a dozen picture frames. I picked out two drawings from each of the kids and tucked them carefully into a frame to hang on the wall or sit out on the tables in the space we’d made for her.
           Nick had crept into her charcoal pencils and sketched the outline of the Tokyo Dome. It had taken a while, but the story of that first time he’d kissed her came out in the early days of our life together. It was a moment I didn’t begrudge them and I memory I hoped they kept with them forever.
           I’d spent hours trying to figure out what my addition would be. After a while, I decided to do my best to replicate that moment when our lives together really began. I went through my iCloud and pulled up the photos from our honeymoon. There was half a dozen of that day on the coast where Nick and Y/N had exchanged their rings. It took three tries, but I finally produced something that looked like the lighthouse on the edge of Oahu.
           It was the early hours of the morning of Y/N’s birthday when I finally slipped back into the house, bleary eyed and exhausted. Nick stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, and chugging a bottle of water.
           “Everything’s ready,” I said around a yawn. I thought about making a cup of coffee. “Is she still asleep?”
           “Everybody is. RJ was having nightmares, so I slept most of the night in his room.” My brother smiled a little. “Go get in bed. I’ll be there as soon as I check on little man.”
           I reached out and hugged him. “Thanks, Nick. For everything you’ve done all these years.”
           Nick locked his arms around me and squeezed me hard. “Thank you for letting me be here. For taking me back.”
           I squeezed my eyes shut. I wasn’t going to cry. “You and Y/N are the most important people in my life. And this life is the one for us, no matter what anyone says.”
           I padded down the hallway to the master bedroom. Y/N was curled beneath the blankets in the center of the king-sized bed. For a moment, I stood there watching her sleeping. I remembered the first time I saw her, the first time I kissed her. My wife was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, and I couldn’t believe that I’d been lucky enough to have the last almost twenty years with her.
           She snuggled close to me when I slipped into bed beside her. She pressed her lips against my cheek and tucked herself under my arm. Her head pillowed on my chest. I kissed the top of her head and closed my eyes.
           Sometime later, Nick crawled into bed on her other side. He curled up behind her, his arm tucked around her waist. Together—just like we faced everything else in life—we went to sleep.
***
           I woke up to a faint knocking. Sleep fell away slowly. I was warm and comfortable snuggled between Matt and Nick. They were both sound asleep, made evident by Nick’s slightly open mouth and Matt’s soft snores.
           The knock came again. I sighed and sat up, crawling down to the end of the bed to avoid waking either of them. Rubbing my eyes to wake up, I opened the bedroom door to find my sixteen-year-old daughter.
           “Happy birthday, Mom,” she said with a grin. “We made breakfast for you and Dad and Papa.”
           I smiled, tears in my eyes. “I think Dad and Papa are out of it for a while. But we’ll save them a plate.”
           She led the way to the kitchen where thirteen-year-old Nicole was piling eggs on the plates of her brothers. Ten-year-old Lee was carefully pouring orange juice into a line of cups. He turned and gave me a smile that looked exactly like Matt’s.
           “Morning, Mama! Happy birthday!” he said as he carried one cup at a time to the table. He handed six-year-old Ty his favorite cup, earning a wide grin from his youngest brother.
           The kids pulled me toward the table and tucked me into my normal place between Mattie and Nicole. The boys lined up on the other side of the table. Seats at the head and foot were empty, waiting for Matt and Nick to join us.
           Mattie looked around the table and frowned. She stood up and practically stalked down the hallway back to the master bedroom. I hid my laughter behind my hand as I heard her pounding on the door, yelling for her Dad and Papa to get up right now you’re ruining Mom’s birthday breakfast!
           Ty grinned, his smile pushing into his cheeks, and giggled. “Mattie’s yelling at them!”
           RJ looked over at his baby brother and nodded. “Serves them right. It’s Mama’s birthday.”
           My heart swelled at the sweetness from my sons. Lee looked after his sister and scrambled from his seat to run to join Mattie. He stood next to her, pounding his fist on the door in time with hers.
           “We’re coming, we’re coming,” Nick growled playfully as he swung open the door. I saw him grin at our eldest daughter before he leaned over, picked her up, and threw her over his shoulder. “Do you think we’d miss your mother’s birthday breakfast?”
           Matt appeared right behind him, swinging Lee up onto his back. “We were up late getting Mama’s present ready.”
           “Present?” I asked, arching my brows. I followed their movement as they carried our eldest son and daughter back into the kitchen. They deposited them in their seats, slipped around to press a tandem kiss on my cheeks, and smiled as they sank into their seats.
           “Who made this?” Matt asked, looking down at the plate in front of him.
           “Nikki,” Ty said proudly. She was his favorite, and he loved everything that she did.
           Matt’s brow lifted as he beamed at her. She blushed and looked away. “It looks amazing, Bug,” he said before taking a bite. “You cook like your mother.”
           Nicole glanced up at me, pride on her face. I kissed the top of her head. “You can help me make Thanksgiving dinner this year,” I whispered.
***
           After breakfast, Matt and Nick tied an Elite bandana around my eyes. Then they took me by the hands and led me through the house. I could hear the children following along, whispering and giggling at each other. I looked around, trying to get an idea of what was happening, particularly when we left the house for the late September sunshine.
           Nick talked quietly as he guided me over the uneven bumps and dips. I followed a map of our property in my head as I tried to figure out where they were taking me.
           “Okay,” Matt said from my left. “Mattie, you got the camera?”
           “Yep,” I heard her reply.
           The bandana fell away, and I squinted in the bright light. We stood outside the garage that the boys had converted into a home gym when they bought their homes next to each other. I stared at the door, not sure what was happening.
           Nick stepped in front of me, his hand on the doorknob, and grinned. “You’ve given up so much for us, Y/N. Your passions and your hobbies. It’s time you got those back.”
           The kids filed in behind Nick, Mattie walking backward to keep her cell phone trained on me. Matt pushed me forward with his palm on the base of my spine. The moment I stepped over the threshold, I started to cry. The space was no longer a gym. Somehow, the boys had created a whole new room. It was painted a soft heather grey and stocked with every art supply I owned. My bento box with my chalks. Mason jars of brushes and acrylic. An easel and canvases of every size. Parchment paper. Everything I could ever want or need to draw, sketch, or paint.
           The walls were hung with frames of every size and shape. Some held pictures the kids had drawn over the years, signed at the bottom with their names and ages. Two of them were clearly by Matt and Nick. A rough black and white sketch of the curving roof of the Tokyo Dome. Another carefully drawn outline of a lighthouse along a coast.
           A palette had been turned into a photo frame—I suspected Brandon’s wife had something to do with it. It was splashed with bright colors, and circular holes had been cut into the wood. A picture of each of my children had been placed inside. A larger oval had a picture of the three of us at the wedding, the two of them standing in their suits on either side of me. A photo we were desperately grateful for after the fact.
           I turned around in circles, one after the other, trying to take in everything. My heart pounded in my chest and the tears poured down my cheeks. Mattie followed my every move with the camera, her hands shaking as she cried, too. Nicole sniffled.
           “Do you like it?” Matt asked softly.
           Nick leaned his chin on his brother’s shoulder. The two of them watched me apprehensively, almost terrified.
           “I love it. So much,” I whispered, trying to take a breath. “You… you did this… It’s beautiful. It’s perfect.”
           A moment later, I was wrapped up in their arms. “We love you,” Nick whispered in my ear as Matt cradled my head in his hand. “Happy birthday, Sunshine.”
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shadowsnlace · 4 years
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Hello! Can i have a Kenpachi headcanons when his s/o seing his demonic bankai for the first time and compliment how cool and strong he was? Could you make it lead to NSFW (if you ok with that)? Thank you in advance and be safe 🙏
I think we’re all OK with some Kenpachi fun :) Hope you enjoy!
* It’s a well known fact that Kenpachi Zaraki prefers to hold back when it comes to fighting. He wants to draw out the pleasure of battle, so using his bankai is really a last-ditch effort for him. It’s not something he likes to whip out unless it’s really necessary.
* However, now that he’s got a bankai, Shunsui (and a few other captains) have convinced him that he really does need to get in practice with it so that he can grow and master it...which is how you get to see it. 
* The main problem with Kenny’s bankai is that he goes into complete berserker mode to the point that he’s dangerous to everyone. Then, of course, there is the physical change he undergoes which is enough to scare the piss out of most....but, not you. You get a thrill down your spine.
* The after-effects of bankai for Kenny is a gear shift from fighting to fucking that is just as savage. All it takes is a heated look from you and you’ll be lucky if you get somewhere private before he’s tearing at your clothes and the tattered remnants of his. He’s got spare energy to burn and being tongue-deep, knuckles-deep, and balls-deep in you is the perfect remedy for that. (Not necessarily in that order, but he will enjoy exploring every pleasurable way into you.)
* Just like fighting, Kenpachi likes to hold back during sex -- and for the same reason: he likes to draw out the pleasure. He will never cum before you do. In fact, he’ll make sure you cum many times before he’ll even think about chasing his own release. Just keep in mind that he can cum, stay hard, and then keep going for quite a few rounds before he’ll be completely spent and willing to let you melt into the sheets to recover. 
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