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#attack on titan x oc
riewritten · 1 year
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when i was a kid i used to imagine mailing my drawings to my favorite illustrators and i would be wiggling my feet to the air in excitement. maybe they'll smile at me or pat my head or make my best ship win the game
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drawing @frenchdyer 's OC made me feel that again (except now, there's a looming terror of what if i didn't get the colors right. what if it's creepy.)
either way, love u chau
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nixie-writes-aot · 1 year
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From Darkness We Flee
Chapter Three: It's Just Paranoia
Warnings: canon compliant angst, paranoia, oc x canon
Pairing: Reiner Braun x Zakai Eriko, Bertholdt Hoover x Zakai Eriko, Reiner Braun x Bertholdt Hoover
Author’s Note: No, neither Reiner or Bertholdt are stalking Zakai. Stating that outright jdghjgd. More is explained in the next chapter(and yes this one IS fairly short)
Word Count: 1.3k
The brunette laid against a tree, the shade of its leaves protecting Zakai from the hot summer heat beating down. Yet even with that, the dryness and the heat still got to her. Sweat dripped down her arms, now bare with her jacket in her lap. The turtle neck she wore was tight against her skin and sleeveless to boot. Her shoulders, biceps, and forearms splattered with a constellation of dark brown, almost black, freckles. Unlike Ymir and Marco, both of which only seemed to have a handful of freckles spread across their faces. Zakai stared up at the obscured sky, gazing at how the tree's leaves were a lush, vibrant green from the seasonal shift between spring and summer. Branches twisted and firm, the bark a deep brown. Zakai let out a sigh, muscles relaxed and breathing calm. It was a fine afternoon, honestly. Yet something was still bugging her. It went past just sitting there and sorting herself to get her head in the game, to move forward. This was a stop, wasn’t it? A break? Wasn’t that what Zakai had been fighting since that day? Zakai closed her eyes, feeling a breeze rush past. When was the last time she felt like this?
Zakai didn’t know. How could she? Her world had been flipped upside down twice in her life. Moments when uncertainty, doubt, and fear flooded her every sense. What would her mother say? What would Nathalie say? Zakai couldn’t know that. No, things had moved too quickly for that. Zakai, instead, would just continue moving forward. She had to. Didn’t she? What would happen if she stopped running and stood still? Zakai didn’t know the answer. A lot of her questions remained with no answer, not a very solid one at the very least. Zakai inhaled deeply, exhaling softly. She had no idea what to do except fight. Zakai had to fight. Yet was it really so selfish to want to dream of a better tomorrow? To wish to be able to lay down under a tree, the sun shining above with no need or want to move forever onwards? 
Zakai furrowed her brows, stop thinking like a coward, she mentally chastised herself. 
Guilt wormed itself inside her mind again, chiding and scolding as Zakai shoved that thought down again and again. Only a cadet or not, war was no place to think of such fallacies. The fallacy such as being able to leave a peaceful, still life within the walls like so many believed just two years ago. No, that fallacy would only lead to Zakai’s eventual death. Maybe murder. Zakai had to survive, she had to push onwards. It was the promise she had made that day. Zakai would never let herself weaken or slow, she didn’t care what refusing that would do to her. She just didn’t care. That was what Zakai convinced herself, opening her eyes and grabbing her jacket, rising to her feet. Zakai tugged the jacket on, pushing her arms through the sleeves and hiding most of her freckles from view. Except the ones that were scattered across her face and the ones down her arms, almost at her hands. She ran her fingers through her bangs, grunting in annoyance at the resistance of the lightly tangled brown locks. All the same, Zakai departed from that tree. She was certain that she was fine now, that nothing nor no one could get to her. Not even Ymir with her staring problem. Zakai was sure of herself, the doubt was gone. Zakai was certain of that. She had nothing to fear. Wasn’t that right? The brunette’s every step towards the training grounds put her on edge despite her own self reassurances. Zakai shook her head, refusing to buckle just because of one confrontational cadet. Zakai was strong, stronger than Ymir. This much, she was certain of as she passed every tree. Nothing was wrong, Zakai was fine. Everything was fine, perfectly fine. Zakai was certain. Zakai had to be. What would ever be wrong? Yet her breathing grew sharper, muscles tensing as she stepped away from the treeline. What was wrong? What could’ve been wrong? Zakai’s eyes darted around, as if the commandant would come down from nowhere and scream at her like he had Sasha. 
Zakai’s mind had shifted away from Nathalie yet… Was this better? The feeling of being watched, eyes narrowed as she was looking for whoever was just watching. Was this how others felt with her? No, surely not. Zakai was crafty, sneaky. Zakai was subtle. This was all but slamming her into the ground, a fist around her heart and screaming ill intentions into her ears. Zakai couldn’t even be sure this was Ymir. Was it? If not her then who? Was it someone who knew her parents? Had they finally come for her too? Zakai shook her head. 
“No…” she whispered, “Don’t be absurd, they’d never come here.” 
Zakai’s words were reassuring, if nothing else. Calming, even. She took her words as fact, dismissing the feeling. “Paranoia. You’re paranoid. That's it.” Zakai murmured to herself. 
Yet the anxiety was unwavering. Zakai could hear her heart in her head, the pounding causing a distinct throb to swell up and steal away her focus. Zakai crossed the training grounds, noting that no one was there. Not anymore, the chill of the evening started to sink into her bones even as the heat was still persistent. Zakai didn’t care anymore, they could eat dinner without her. She wasn’t hungry and she wasn’t there to make friends. It was high time Zakai remembered her purpose. So, she swung open the door to the barracks. For once, it felt peaceful. That paranoia fading to the back of her mind, mind calm and still like the night. Yet the feeling wouldn’t completely go away. Would it ever? Zakai didn’t even bother with much more than taking off her boots and laying down. 
Sleep never came easily anymore. 
It was days of this, an ever building sense of dread and paranoia. Never knowing what was happening, who was around the corner. Days overflowed into a week. A week of Zakai watching the beginning of training with the ODM gear. Teaching how to operate, repair, and manage this gear. A week of fear, a week of low marks. A week of disappointment. It built and built, no reprieve. What was even happening? What was wrong? Zakai couldn’t help but question silently if Nathalie was to blame. Was it guilt? Zakai wasn’t talking or socializing, she wasn’t there to make friends. Zakai couldn’t trust them. She doubted any of them even noticed. Zakai would eat with them, shower with them, train with them. Albeit, the training had all been either learning about the titans or the ODM gear. Finally, finally it was different. Zakai felt at ease, finally. It had been a week. Zakai stood around, all of them waiting for their respective sparring partners to be assigned. Although, Zakai hardly cared. She was tired. She was always tired. 
Zakai sat down, muttering for Eren to, “Tell whoever ends up fighting me to just seek me out.” Both of them were off to the side, by the treeline. The brunette looked to her, she could see the hesitance in his eyes. Eren didn’t know her, not really. So, for him to show any concern was laughable. Zakai didn’t at all think it whatsoever possible that he could be concerned about her isolation. 
“Alright.” Eren agreed, walking away towards the charts where Shadis had it announced. 
Zakai didn’t care enough to try and worm her way with how many there were. In fact, after seeing Jean and Marco depart, alongside Mikasa and Sasha. She closed her eyes, letting herself just enjoy the peace. Zakai had noticed that Eren seemed friendly enough, he probably even knew whoever Shadis thought to match up against her for a first round. She knew he’d be watching and that's what she counted on. There was a slight breeze, blowing through her hair. Zakai heard steps approach, not even caring to open her eyes. What was the point until they properly greeted her? Maybe it would be Daz or Floch, even Samuel. Those that Eren seemed to talk with, among others. Yet Zakai heard nothing, just a low sigh. Driven by her interest at who actually was just blatantly staring, she opened her eyes. The sight before her had her face paling, eyes widening as she took in every detail. That feeling of fear tightened around her throat, around her heart. Zakai felt cold yet validated. His hand was outstretched towards her, pale green eyes peering down and a frown on his face. Zakai had garnered a reputation among the 104th for being particularly aware yet apathetic to much of their infighting, particularly Eren and Jean. Yet when she moved, it was to slap the cadet’s hand away and stand. Zakai was frozen still, muscles tense as she took in his appearance. She knew who it was. Of course she knew. The cadet withdrew his hand, gazing downwards and no longer meeting her glare. Neither spoke for a good few moments then Zakai did, voice firm and almost bitter.
“Bertholdt.”
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sinful-sketches · 1 year
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E2 with whoever you'd like :]
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Its the trio. The titan trio. Warrior trio. Daddy issues trio???
You can find the ask game here!
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jayteacups · 2 years
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Warmth
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Summary: Levi muses on his feelings for Nuwa while she sleeps.
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Pairing: Levi x fem!OC
Word count: 1.4k
Tags & warnings: SFW, angst, pining, obnoxious use of fire metaphors, pining, Levi POV, pining, self-loathing, oh did I mention PINING 
Notes: A snippet/draft from my Levi/OC fic! No I have not finished planning it but yes I really wanted to write this scene.
I’ve explained the basics of Nuwa’s backstory (and therefore a fair bit of context for this scene) here if you’re interested. But basically, this takes place shortly after the failed expedition where thousands of civilians plus military members were sent off by the Crown to reclaim Maria after the Fall of Shiganshina - but in reality was a way to cut down on the population. (You know, the expedition that killed off Armin’s grandfather?) Nuwa tried to petition against it, because she’s a noble and a politician, but it didn’t work, and after hearing about what a failure it was, she had a breakdown the moment Levi came to visit her straight after he returned :( (Also they’re not together yet that’s why there’s so much god-forsaken PINING)
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She was finally asleep.
Curled up against his body, silky black hair spilling all over his chest and neck, Nuwa was dead to the world. Her lips were parted slightly, her cheek was squished against his sternum, and if one would look closer, she was drooling onto his shirt, too. But dark shadows under her eyes, drying tear-tracks and the blotchy redness around her nose and eyes ruined the peaceful illusion, however, and only served as a painful reminder of what the world had lost today. 
Levi tightened his arms around her. The situation had taken its toll on her, especially since she’d petitioned so hard against the culling. What had made it even worse was that Nuwa was so close to turning the tides in her favour - the Council’s votes were almost exactly evenly split. 
Almost.
A word that Nuwa hated with every fibre of her being. 
A word that only meant that she’d still lost, she’d still failed, despite how far she’d come. 
Levi remembered vividly when Erwin had received the result of the Council’s vote, the way his ears had rung, the way his head had spun. Despite the protests from almost every single military personnel within the Scouts, they had no choice but to obey the Crown’s order. 
The bloodshed had been the worst he’d ever seen. He couldn’t even close his eyes without hearing their screams, or seeing their faces. And even worse, in the back of his mind as he prepared for the suicide mission, he knew that Nuwa, his dearest friend, must’ve failed in countering the proposal. He knew that this must’ve been eating her up in a way that was near impossible to recover from. 
The difference between you and me, Nuwa had choked out in-between sobs, not long after Levi had returned from the expedition and sought her out, is that you blame yourself for the things you cannot control. Whereas I… I was so close. I could have had this under control. If I was good enough, I could’ve swayed more members of the Council. Those innocent people would never have been sent off to their deaths. And you wouldn’t have had to watch them die.
She’d heaved and sobbed and screamed, a small shaking mess in his arms. And there was nothing that Levi could think of, nothing that he could possibly do, to take that guilt away.
And the worst thing? Deep down, Levi knew all too well where Nuwa was coming from. Though he disagrees with the fact that some of his failures, new and old, weren’t out of his control, he knew that the win could’ve easily gone to her. So easily. The Crown and Council would’ve needed to find another way to deal with the overpopulation problem, and likely would’ve reached a solution that still clashed with Nuwa’s ideals, but they wouldn’t have gone through with the mass culling if she had swayed enough of the Council to vote ‘no’. She had been so close. Yet just over half of the Council, a group of elected nobles chosen by the public and the nobility, revealed their true, ugly colours that day. 
Levi sighed. This world was cruel. Both of them were well aware of that. But how could he ever blame her for this? How could he ever blame the woman who had spent her entire life working tirelessly to seek out justice for the Zheng clan, the people that she never even got to know? How could he ever blame the woman who was on the brink of legalising the rights and citizenship for every innocent Underground citizen, a feat that he had once thought impossible? 
Her sobs still rang in Levi’s ears, even after they had long passed. Nuwa was one of the most collected and calm people he knew besides himself; so to see her completely break down and crumple was a little unnerving. 
Shiganshina had been a part of Nuwa’s duchy, before Maria fell. Much of the refugees were people that Nuwa had been directly responsible for. She loathed herself, for not being able to do better, for not being able to use all the power and influence she had in the Court, the Council, to preserve her people’s lives. 
Even after all this time, I am no match against the Crown, she had despaired. In the end, there was nothing I could do for the people.
In her sleep, she mumbled something incoherently, stirring slightly and brows furrowing. She shifted against him with a sigh before falling still once more. Perhaps if Levi closed his eyes, he could pretend that they were in a different world altogether - one where neither of them were plagued by their responsibilities. One where they weren’t lying in each other’s embraces as friends, but as…
No. He snapped open his eyes. He was not allowed such luxuries, such fantasies, and most certainly not with her, never with her. She was more than he deserved. Despite her own dirtied hands, back from their days in the Underground, she’d done more than enough to wipe the red out of her ledger. He, however, had not. How could he ever hope to wipe his ledger clean, when the pages were stained red entirely?
“You did all you could,” he found himself whispering to her, gently brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen over her relaxed face. “This isn’t on you.” 
These… these strange and dangerous feelings that had been lingering so close to the surface, lately, were impossible to suppress. He was a coward - he always had been. Nuwa always had the spunk and the spark that he lacked, and he would believe this until the day he died. She had been the one to breathe life back into him, that day in the tavern. He would’ve stayed an empty husk of a human, forever in purgatory, had Kenny decided to take him elsewhere instead of the Zheng’s tavern, that day. He would’ve remained a ghost of a person, if Nuwa had not hugged his skeletal form like an old friend upon their first meeting as children, declaring that she would be his friend from now on. Levi was forever in her favour, and as such could not dare to even think about her in such a way. 
Perhaps it was the fact that she was asleep that loosened his lips. Perhaps it was the fact that he was so tired, of everything, that he wished to let himself have this just one selfish moment. Perhaps it was that he had spent so, so long refusing to even voice these thoughts, knowing she would never feel the same, that led to this. 
Gently brushing aside a loose eyelash from her cheek, he whispered, “you bring me warmth, Nuwa, you bring everyone warmth.” 
Everything was coming to the surface, now. Levi couldn’t deny it any longer - that what he felt for her was far, far different than anything he would ever feel for anyone else. 
It was always her.
“Fuck, I… there’s just something about you. You’re…” he swallowed. “You’re like fire—you… you have the terrifying capacity to raze everything in your path to the ground. I’ve seen that dark side of you, where that ambition corrodes away at you. I’ve seen you commit atrocities that would make the lowest of the low turn tail and run away. You could bring humanity to its feet on a whim, if you so wished. You certainly have the power, the influence, to do so.” Levi paused, rubbing gentle patterns with his hand into her back. “Yet you choose instead to light the way, to fight for the common people in your own special way, you bring warmth with you wherever you go, chasing away the cold and the shadows, and…,” his breath hitched, “you shine so damn bright it’s impossible not to look at you. It even hurts, sometimes, to look at you. And yet, I can’t bring myself to look away.”
There was no sign that Nuwa heard a single word. She laid still, her breathing just as steady and deep as it had been before he began speaking. 
A wash of self-loathing washed over him, suddenly. By the Walls, this was so fucking stupid. This was hardly the time and place, even if she was asleep and couldn’t hear a thing he was saying. She was grief-stricken, and he had not processed the slaughter he himself had just witnessed. To be entertaining such thoughts after the tragedy humanity had just faced was perverse.
He clicked his tongue, disgusted with himself. 
You are undeserving.
Ignoring the sting in his eyes and the lump in his throat, Levi slipped quietly out from his friend’s bed, slowly releasing himself from Nuwa’s warm, warm hold.
It was time to return to the barracks.
Time to stop playing pretend.
Time to wake up.
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AOT Masterlist | Levi x OC Masterlist
© 2022 JAYTEACUPS | DO NOT REPOST, MODIFY OR CLAIM AS YOUR OWN WORK
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writing-bakugo · 1 year
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Rags and Riches ~ Levi Ackerman
Find Chapter 1 here!
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2. Freedom
Enyo's golden hair misbehaved like straw and stuck straight up when she sat with heavy, sleep-creased eyes. Her hair was still sopping wet from her immediate visit to the washroom last night and she had slept awfully. She rolled and tossed and turned and rolled some more with thoughts of the man from the Underground. Yeah, he was messy, but was he really the kind of person who was thoughtless?
Enyo crawled out of bed like a zombie preoccupied by creating a story for the man she saw. He could be a grand miner! Maybe he was rich and hunted for diamonds and gold for his career. Yes, she thought to herself. He wasn't a citizen of the Underground at all! He had papers to live above ground and was only that messy because he pursues his career in the mines! Yeah. That's it. He's actually a really good man for working with his crew in the mines.
She busied herself in the library because she was committed to finishing the book about constellations before the party. Her mind wandered back to the messy man and wondered if he had ever seen the constellations. Enyo had. It was a phenomenon to see them, as they were only visible during the cold months of the year, but still, she had seen them. Did the people in the Underground even know what a constellation was?
"Enyo dear-get your feet off the chair!" Theodora snapped. She scowled at her daughter and cleared her throat loudly, "I expect you downstairs in five minutes for breakfast."
Enyo smoothed her hair and walked downstairs in a light pink dress and watched Theodora plate up an egg and half a slice of toast. The savory scents wafted up Enyo's nose and she licked her lips and took a loud, crunching bite.
"Eat with your mouth shut," Theodora said. "My walls! Are you seriously going to resort to being a whore with no manners the day of your party? Sit up straight!"
Enyo zipped her shoulders back and stared at the toast. Theodora smiled at her daughter's corrections and gushed about the days' events. First, Enyo was to head back out to the Heisman's and seriously convince them to host the party tonight. After that was a waxing appointment, then a shaping appointment, and another lesson in manners before the party began. By the time the night was up, according to Theodora, Enyo would be sharing a bed with the King.
Tobias left for his government job part way through breakfast. He scarfed his eggs and slices of toast like a scavenging dog and stomped out the door. Enyo wished she could show the much beast-like exuberance of her father, but her mother would slap her right away if she even tried.
"Go to the market and hunt down the Heisman's," Theodora ordered.
No one was happier to be away from Theodora's presence than Enyo. She slipped on a pair of tan flats and rushed out the door with her mother's coin purse. When the sunlight breathed against Enyo's skin, a deep breath and a smile donned the girl's face. She walked toward the market with a youthful bounce, free from the judging eyes.
Carts bustled by and Enyo stared at the Heisman's Pastry Shop sign, debating whether or not she wanted to go in. A priest begged the people to worship the Walls, and a boy threw a rock at the holy man. Enyo giggled as the boy sprinted off while the priest resorted to cursing.
"I just saw the Wings of Freedom!" someone gasped.
The Scouts were never in the Royal Capital. The only time Enyo had seen the Wings of Freedom was when her school teacher had drawn them on the board. She'd also seen the flags fly on the King's court, but she had never seen a Scout in the flesh. She spun and spun with wide eyes trying to catch a glimpse of the green cloaks and white wings.
"Where?" Enyo quietly turned down the alleyway behind the Military Police's quarters where the recruitment station was located. It was a lame wooden frame with the three insignias represented: the Military Police, the Garrison, and the Scouts.
A cart of fresh fruits pushed past Enyo and she stared at the large figure of Klause Heisman pushing a cart of berries and apples into the pastry shop. She glanced at the recruitment station, and back at the Heisman's.
The recruitment station.
The Heisman's.
The Wings of Freedom.
Captivity.
"Excuse me miss," a member of the Garrison said, "you're blocking the way. Unless you intend to sign up."
"I do."
What?
The soldier stood a little taller and grabbed the pen in front of him. "Name?"
"Enyo Aetos."
What am I doing?
"An Aetos?" The soldier paused to look Enyo up and down.
"I'm fifteen and from here, the Royal Capital."
The soldier furrowed his brows. "Miss Aetos, I feel inclined to let you know that if you choose to back out of the military after you enroll, you will be shipped off to do farm labor. You can't come running home once you've had your fill of the real world."
Mom's going to kill me.
"I know," Enyo quietly said. Everyone knew what happened to flunking cadets.
The soldier scribbled and Enyo's throat lurched. She watched as he filled out her paperwork and she waited patiently for him to hand the pen to her. Her hands refused to move. She stared at the paper with her name at the top. Once she signed, her time would be up.
Two Scouts walked by, Wings of Freedom rushing behind them.
Freedom.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Find Chapter 3 here!
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moonbake · 2 years
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Haru Kurosawa | Imagine... A Blind Date | AOT/SNK
Erwin Smith || Art Museum || word count: 4.1k || (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧ SFW
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Haru is leaning on a tall light pole, standing near the entrance of her apartments, her doll-sized handbag resting on the bench as she adjusts her knee-high black boots. I don’t know why I wore these; they’re going to be so loud.  It wasn’t like her to fret about how she looked, but this date was different from her others, it’s a blind date.
Her best friend Hange Zöe wanted to cheer her up after losing her art internship. Not that she could argue with them since they live together. Haru had to promise Hanji she wouldn’t look up anything on Erwin Smith, the CEO of a Survey Freedoms, Inc. a security company that handles relocations and safety to the needy.
As promising as that sounds, not really her thing. The only reason she agreed to the date is because Hanji had already set the thing up. She’d much rather be in her room painting away while her cat Moon watches from the balcony.
Instead, here she is standing in her black turtleneck tucked into a plaid high-waisted skirt. I should’ve grabbed a coat. Her boots aren’t high-heeled, though she was warned to wear her tall ones. Whatever that means, she’s been with tallboys before, nothing new to her. It's cute to see how flustered she’s getting over this date.
She looks at the older gentleman, Bill the doorman. “No need to be nervous,” he smiles.
Haru sighs, “is it that obvious? I was hoping to play it off...” she decides to pull her hair up into a bun, trying her best to contain her thick black waves.
“My advice? Be wildly honest. Hold nothing back.”
“Alright, duly noted... thanks Bill,” Haru chuckles.
“That’s why me and my wife are still married, misses told me I was too piggish when I watched movies, and you know what?”
“What?”
“Bless her. Wanted to prove her wrong with movie nights and well, been doing for the last thirty years,”
Haru smiles, “how is she doing by the way?”
“Just fine,” Bill opens the door for guests coming into the building, welcoming them and returning his attention to Haru, “she’s out of town, visiting the grandkids.”
Before she can reply, a Rolls-Royce Phantom pulls up and stops. Expecting the driver to come out, the back doors reveal a pair of long legs stepping out in tan slacks, with a pair of brown leather shoes. All pulled together by the very tall gentlemen wearing a white button up shirt and wool mix waistcoat. Topped off with a small, emerald bolo tie.
His sky-blue eyes paralyzing Haru causes her knees to lock up. His intense gaze turns soft, putting his hand out to shake, “are you Haru Kurosawa?” She quickly looks back to Bill, who nods and gives a discreet (stamp of approval) thumbs-up between the two.
All Haru can manage to do is nod, “I’m Erwin Smith, Hange failed to mention how formal this would be, I’m a bit of a mess,” a mess? If he’s a mess then I’m the queen of slobs, she thought as her eyes darted to his arms, the fabrics looking ready to tear as it struggles to stretch against his large, thick biceps.
She looks back not even realizing Erwin gaze on her, cheeks flushing against her will. “You’re fine, I’m mean I tend to overdress,” boo no Haru own it! “Well, you know, it’s not a date without boots, which by the looks of it, maybe I should’ve worn my taller pair.”
Erwin chuckles, “you look lovely, putting me to shame honestly,” She finally takes Erwin’s large, yet gentle hand, as he motions to the car, “shall we?”
The car ride is filled with the familiar get-to-know-you questions, mostly it seemed like Erwin trying to get Haru to speak up more. Not that she didn’t want to, if anything, she was finding it exciting to listen to him speak away about his work, friends, and what he likes to do—which is rare as not many men really grab her attention. Especially corporate ones.
“So, where exactly are we going?”
Erwin chuckles, “to be honest, Hanji set this all up, even I’m in the dark” he grabs his coat, removing the lint as best he can. “They told me you’re an artist,”
“Not a very good one,” Haru semi-jokes, be confident not wimpy, she waves her hands, “currently I’m an art teacher over at the school nearby my apartments,”
“That’s amazing,” he dropped his coat to his lap, turning his attention to her, “what do you normally draw?” he asked, this time leaning on her every movement.
“Landscapes mostly, I’d like to become a concept artist, but portfolio building is very time consuming, to say the least,” she didn’t want to go into detail about failing the internship. What makes it more painful is getting to the last round of interviews... only to lose to someone close to the president of the program. The industry, am I right? 
“I’d love to see your art,” he said bring her back to reality, “or at least, whatever you’ve willing to show me,” a soft smile absorbed his face, with a spark in his eye.
“Really?” She can’t help but smile at his response, “that’s sweet of you,”
“I’d be happy to even look at your portfolio—”
Haru shakes her head at his ambition, what a sweet boy, “trust me, it’s all over the place, I’d much rather show you something else,” she quickly overthinks what she last said, cheeks burning up, “not like that! I-I mean, not to insult you or anything! Cause we were talking about my art and all.” Shut. Up. Her thoughts shake her, only to her surprise, the car isn’t silent.  
Erwin can’t help but chuckle, his endearing laughs causes Haru to lighten up. Suddenly, she’s beginning to feel comfortable around the intimidating figure, he isn’t like him... he’s light-hearted. She shakes thoughts of him away, but then out of the dark, like a crack of a whip, “That’s a shame,” Erwin’s bold voice murmurs, adding to the tension between the two, “I better play my cards right then”
Her heart flutters, causing her to dry swallow. Her legs pull together, clenching so hard it squeezes her pleasures away. Before she can reply, the car comes to a stop. The two look out the window at the destination Hange so cleverly picked out for them.
 “No, they did not!” Not even waiting for anyone to open her door, Haru leaps out of the car. It’s the Art Museum she had been boring Hanji about, they had new exhibits she’d been dying to see like the Yoshitomo Nara one, and the Van Gogh, even her personal favorite type of style, the artpop corner!
Erwin can’t help but admire her spunk, grabbing her bag before tipping the driver. As he leaves the car, his eyes are locked on her pear-shaped frame, it’s very hard for him to respectfully stare. It’d be easier if her skirt wasn’t hugging her hips, a major weakness for him.
“Can’t forget this.” he lightly taps Haru’s shoulder with her bag. She chuckles, using it to hide her blushing.
“I’ve got to thank Hanji for this,” she said as Erwin easily slips his coat on. “You really had no idea about this?”
Erwin smiles, “believe me, I’d be taking credit if I did.”
“Guess I chewed their ear off about this place enough,” Haru looks back to Erwin, “I’d get it if this isn’t your type of thing, rather go do something else,”
He frowns, “are you kidding?” he looks to the museum and takes a deep breath, “this place is full of history, I’m a sucker for that,”
“Good thing art and history go hand and hand,” she said as she stared walking ahead.
Clearing his throat, Erwin smirks, “you have no idea.”
After buying their tickets, the two wander inside the chilly, brightly lit space. Haru is jumping in place like an eager kid, ready to throw herself into the exhibits. Psst! Control yourself, hot dilf standing next to you! She takes a deep breath to calm herself.
Erwin who’s looking at a pamphlet, looks unreal (and not just because of his height) his sharp jawline and strong brows pull it all together, screaming dominance... why did that come to me? She thought as she makes her way towards him.
“Where to first?” she asks.
Erwin looks puzzled, “no-no, it’s where you want to go, I’ll follow.” Except to his surprise, she shakes her head at what he just said, replying with, “want me to pick?”
She nods, “of course, lead the way commander.” she murmurs as she gets closer to him, looking down at the same pamphlet he is, only this time the tension between the two is thicc and oh so electrifying as she takes in his strong aroma of sandalwood and after-work coffee. Haru prefers tea but can’t help herself from taking deeper breaths as she’s close to Erwin.
On the other hand, it’s taking everything in Erwin’s power not to compliment her sweet honey-rose scent, like a flower protected by a hive, forbidden. As she’s busy looking over the map, the turtleneck is highlighting her jaw and clinging tightly to her chest. He snaps his head, and look to his right, cheeks flustering, “let’s go this way.”
He offers his strong arm out, and without hesitation, Haru takes it. She’s holding on tighter, absorbing his warmth as she's feeling him flex through the coat, he’s going to rip it if he keeps this up.
They first walk into the German Expressionism exhibit, pieces of art that were saved from being destroyed. Some of them are straightforward, with subjects of farms and people, but as they slowly walk through the art, it turns into an expressive nightmare showing the true horrors.
Though they were chatting away in the car before, here, the two are nearly silent as they take in the art. Only the chatters in the background and their soft breathing can be heard. If anything, Erwin is occasionally looking over at Haru who’s completely lost in the art. Her round, fern-green eyes carefully soaking in the work, occasionally peaking in the corner catching him.
“When did you decide you wanted to be an artist?” he asks.
She shrugs, “when my parents were busy working, I didn’t have any siblings growing up, so I had to keep myself busy, had to put my energy somewhere since I sucked at sports,”
He chuckles, “sounds like your parents were alright with it then?” he said, keeping his attention on her.
“Mmmm... yes and no.” Haru pulls away from Erwin, feeling her stomach turn at the thought of her family. It’s been sometime since she’s talked with them. Not her favorite topic.
Erwin clears his throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stir things.” His calm demeanor allows Haru to weakly smile, giving his arm a light squeeze.
“Believe me, it takes a lot to rattle my cage, besides,” she looks over her shoulder to more Expressionism pieces, “not letting my family ruin this date.” She grabs onto him and attempts to pull him along. Only, Erwin stature isn’t just for show, it’s nearly impossible for her to move the muscular man without nearly tripping.
He can’t help but chuckle at her size, if he really wanted, it’d be so easy to pick her off the ground with just one arm really. Instead, he allows her to pull him along, feeling excited at her holding onto him. Haru's cute personality held a charm of fatality. Another weak point.
“Tell me, how did you get into security?” She asked, trying to take the heat off her as the two get closer. Her leg accidentally brushes against his, finally causing Erwin to burn up, almost embarrassed at the fact he can’t hold his composure. “If I’m making you uncomfortable—”
“Absolutely not.” He reassures, moving his hand to hers. For large ones, she expected it to hold such strength, but even she could tell he was holding himself back, his thick fingers brushing over her knuckles like blades of leaves falling from trees.
“And to answer your question,” he clears his throat, “it’s been something on my mind since I was kid, guess you can say it sparked my curiosity for the world.” Erwin falls silent, looking at one of the pieces, “it’s funny, when you mentioned being an art teacher, I thought of my father, he was a teacher like you.”
“That’s awesome, what did he teach?”
Erwin expression grows solemn, looking at the art ahead of them and giving her hand a light squeeze, “general studies, he knew his history.” The piece showed a town with people running down a twisted path, only cools and whites were plastered on the painting.
Not wanting to delve down the same conversation she avoided, Haru easily rest her head against his bulging bicep. She can pick up on Erwin tone, going from welcoming to lost, way to brighten to mood, she throws at herself.
Erwin smiles, “Why do you create?”
“Huh?”
“Art. Your art, how come you create?” he asks, this time shifting so he faces her. Yet to Haru, this adds more pressure as he towers over her. Good lord Hange was right about the heels. Yet, the soft eyes reflect more than just herself, it’s the first time she really has insight into someone—so no bullshit when it comes to Erwin Smith.
“I suppose at first it was to distract from everything,” she takes a deep breath, getting really honest with herself, “but ever since I’ve been working with the kids, it feels like there’s this new sense of freedom, I don’t know,” she cuts herself off, pulling away from him as she walks off to the next exhibit: Vincent van Gogh. The variety of paintings from Van Gogh are ranging, and yet, all share the same melting expression of self-portraits. “I know, it sounds weird.”
“I like weird,” Erwin catches up, leaning in and whispering, “try me.” In a low tone that sends chills down Haru’s back. Yet... so inviting. She looks over at the figure with tears, the Weeping Women with Handkerchief (1927) On one hand, it looks like Sally from Nightmare before Christmas. One knows easily this piece is something from the mind of Van Gogh depicting despair and pain.
“You can say I’m healing my inner child by creating pieces I like; these kids are so free with their work and not a care in the world. It spreads to me.” she sighs, scratching at her head, knowing full well her cheeks are on fire as she adjusts her turtleneck. “I like having this not as an escape but as something I want to get lost in, if that... makes sense.”
Haru’s too afraid to look at Erwin, “it makes perfect sense,” his steps echoing, leaning close to her ear “in fact, I find it incredibly hard for me not to admire your passion for art. It’s beautiful on you.”
Oh god no, the words melt on her shoulders and down her legs causing them to grow weak, clenching between her thighs. A grin grows on her face as she finally turns to Erwin, who also has a smirk on his face—holding his arm out for her to take. Haru runs her hand down his arm, slipping her slender fingers through his.
They make their way through the large Van Gogh exhibit as the two-grow lost in one another, continuing to ask questions about their favorite foods, where they’d travel to, and the most important question, cats or dogs?
“I’d have to say I’m more of a dog person,” he said, barely paying attention to the art anymore. “I have a German Shepard at home.”
“How old?” Haru asks as they stop at Nara make-shift work studio. A recreation of their artist space that looks a lot like Haru’s, nothing but papers, markers, and colors scattered about.
“Four weeks old, I got Bandit from a friend.” he says. She pokes her head into the space, “Hopefully you can meet him soon.” He casually drops. Haru looks back at Erwin, admiring his smirk. “Shouldn’t have assumed that” he lightly shrugs, “not that I’ll take it back.”
She smiles, turning her attention back to the gentle giant, “I tend to stay away from your type, but I have to admit, the suit is a good look,” Haru can’t stand her hair up any longer, the strain on her scalp is too much. So, she unleashes it.
And to no surprise, Erwin eyes are lost in her incredibly long hair that runs down to her lower back, nearly stopping right above her hips. “Says the angel.”
He did not just call me that—They both freeze, Erwin quickly clears his throat and waves a hand as Haru heart flutters all over her insides, unable to control the blood rush.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from,” he said. Haru grabs his shaky hand, pressing it against neck. Her heart beating like crazy, making it easy for him to feel her warm pulsing beat.
“I liked it.” She whispered, “so don’t stop...?”
Erwin smirks, “Anything for you.”
As they exit the museum, the sunny sky is now a purplish-blue with stars beginning to poke out. Winds are brushing past Haru as her hair floats about. She feels more alive than when she went in. Not wanting the night to end, she holds onto herself, unable to wipe the smile off.
“Are you sure you don’t want to see the other exhibits?” He asks as he offers his hand out. Haru shakes her head, taking his hand as she attempts to pull him down a sidewalk.
“And miss the best part? Come on, before the sun completely sets—” Not arguing Erwin follows with, but Haru being Haru, as she tries being playful and pulling on him, ends up taking a misstep and rolling her ankle. “Ow!” Smoooooth Haru...
Of course, as she braces for the ground, a pair of arms easily grab onto her. A sense of stability and strength that’s firing up her heart.  “Are you okay?” he asks, his thumb rubbing circles.
Despite all the pain, it was hard for her to not catch her breath as he towers over her. The concern in his eyes gave her butterflies. She nuzzles her face into his chest, not wanting him to see how red she's gotten. “That’s what I get for trying to lead you around.”
He chuckles, his hands moving from her arms to her back, “Believe me, I’ll follow you wherever you need me.” He pulls away to give Haru space, but as she tries to take a step, she winces. “Where does it hurt?”
Before she can answer, Erwin kneels, moving her hands to his shoulder as he grabs her leg. It’s hard to control her shaky legs as his fingers trace along with her boot, “here?” he asks, pointing at her ankle as he looks up.
Oh, good lord and heaven have mercy on my quivering insides.
All Haru can manage is an uneasy nod, Erwin sighs, looking to a nearby bench. “Here, I’ve got you.” He sweeps Haru off her feet, causing giggles as he grabs onto her ticklish sides.
“I’m sorry for this,” she frowns, “I’m such a mess.”
He smirks, “a hot one, if I may add.” Erwin sets her on the bench, carefully taking her boot off to show a puffy ankle.
“Again, there’s a reason why I’m an artist and not a sports master.”
“Don’t you—” he chuckles, “I see what you mean.”
Haru sighs, “maybe we should just call it a night,” her ankle is making it impossible to walk, and even with a young night now she has to worry about getting home and nursing the damn thing. I just wanted a glass of wine and watch Gracie and Frank. She tries to stand up with Erwin holding her hand, but can’t hold her stance. “I can barely walk.”
“Not a problem,” Erwin smirks, kissing her hand before motioning to his back. “I’ll carry you.”
She looks down to her skirt, “Erwin—” but to her surprise, he’s tying his coat around her waist, why is he so damn charming? “You don’t have to do this, really.”
He kisses her hand again, radiating confidence that even is inspiring her. “Trust me, it’ll be fun, only if you’re comfortable with it.”
She nods, “... okay.” Her fragile voice manages to get out.
 “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, she gulps. “Come on, hop on.”
There’s a lot more I want to hop onto... she thinks as she grabs on, putting her arms around his shoulder as he hooks his on her legs. In one swift motion, he stands tall and shifts her on his back. Doesn’t even sound like he’s struggling.
She nuzzles her face against the crook of his neck, “thanks.” She murmurs as he walks down the trail.
“Lead the way?” He asks, with the sakura and wisteria trees about, the smell of floral is in the air. She uses her head, motioning to his right where the tall light post highlight sculptures.
It’s funny, even some bugs are flying to Haru as they mistaken her perfume for pollen. Erwin can’t help but chuckle as her grip tightens, squealing whenever a bug flies into her hair. In fact, he had to stop to carefully pull out a butterfly that got trapped in her wavy locks.
“Where are we going?” Erwin asks, squeezing her thigh.
“Do you trust me?” she shivers, “it’s a surprise.” He picks up on her chattering teeth, noticing that even it’s getting chilly for him. The night sky revealing itself as the sun is hiding away, “I promise, we can go after this, besides,” Haru grabs on tighter. “I’m really liking this view,”
Erwin laughs, “Believe it or not, I know someone taller than me.”
“Is that even possible?” she chuckles, rubbing her cheek against his strong jaw.
He takes a deep breath, “I didn’t think someone could make me feel small—"
“There!” She points out. They finally arrive at the edge point, a view of the entire city, but it’s the way the glow behind the building cast colors that aren't normally there.
“I love coming out here when I’m having bad days, something about running up the hill to capture this view is... rewarding.”
“When you’re not spraining your ankle, right?” he jokes, giving her thigh another squeeze. Using her position to her advantage, Haru uses both of her thighs to squeeze Erwin. "It's my sanctuary."
He lowers her down, trying his best to keep his composure but can’t help her audacity of teasing him.
“So, this is what you wanted to show me.” Erwin surprised at her honesty, is taken back when he turns to see the biggest smile plastered across her face. He’s lost in the multitude of the golden hour colors casting its light on Haru.
But that’s not the only thing he’s stuck on, quickly darting to her pouty-lips and back to her eyes. It’s too much for him to hold his composure any longer. “Haru, can I kiss you?” She nods.
Erwin runs his hands under her chin, leaning down and carefully pulling her lips in for a kiss, but he’s slow enough to allow Haru to claim her own path and meet him halfway.
Yet as soon as those lips hit, it’s like a symphony of fluid motion coming together. Grabbing onto his shirt to close the gap between them, Haru runs her hand up to his back.
His coat drops to the ground, but that’s the least of their worries as Erwin moves a hand to the lowers of her back, giving her support as she practically melts in his grip. His hefty fingers enjoying her hair like running through grass.
She tries to grab his coat, but Erwin kicks it aside, his kiss growing passionate yet playful. Occasionally biting at her lower lip to remind her of pain and pleasure.  It’s like he’s unraveling everything he pent up since the beginning of the date. Respectfully, he stops, leaning his head against her.
Haru is lost in trying to catch her breath as her heart is racing, a champion’s smile plastered across her face as her terra cotta lipstick is smeared all over Erwin’s lips.
“Please, let me take you out again.”
Author’s note: ah! this is my first post in YEARS, haven’t done fics since hs. So enjoy! I based this on my visit to LACMA last year.
I’m sorry for the delay, I’m trying to find my writing style again (so if there are typos... my bad.) A head injury is the worst and it's been fun to write these. Many more to come!
On Twitter @ /moonbake_ updates on scheduling & more goodies ★~(◡﹏◕✿)
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ackerfics · 2 years
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this is completely out of the blue but because of this project, i won't be making that much reader fics here ;< for those who don't know, i've been working on a longer aot fic on ao3 and wattpad. i'll be posting the sort of prologue here if you, lovely doves, are interested. feel free to send me asks about this as well owo ^^
prologue of diadems: the burning skies.
(take note this is an oc story, not a reader insert)
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c. year 835
An engulfing inferno — tangerine and scarlet tendrils wrapping around walls and banisters. It was a scene not meant to be admired despite sharing the same palette as the setting sun. Sparks flew as pillars toppled down like the dynasty residing in the Victorian house. Torches lit up the dusky sky, another rain of fire coming down onto the woodwork that was home to three children with separate dreams. Laughter morphed into screams of terror. Dreams turned into a paralysis demon creeping around the corner. Orders were thrown to uniformed men, time ticking by until every crevice of the house became black snow fluttering against the wind.
A man with deep lines embedded on his face scowled. His back was straight and ramrod, proudly showcasing his position as the commander of this group of men. He watched the breaking house with a grim expression, transparent hatred in his eyes, and hand crumpling the document in his hand. His scowl made way for a sneer, “Burn everything to the ground! Make sure no one survives!”
“Yes, sir!”
The man spat, “They think they can hide, huh? These motherfuckers — parasites. They should’ve been dead a long time ago, along with those Ackermans.”
Hooves pounded on the dirt. Pants created puffs of moisture in the air. Scarlet zipped by the countryside plains. A green cloak of wings billowed through the wind torrents.
A young soldier frantically made a salute — a fist on his heart. “Sir, we’re missing someone.”
The commanding officer felt the air run cold. His eyes widened a fraction. “What?”
The horse showed no signs of slowing down.
“Vee, you’re going too fast!”
In an impossible feat, the person named Vee veered their horse to defy the laws of nature and almost flew towards the burning estate. It was but a minuscule blob of orange paints on the countryside’s canvas and yet it ignited something primal within them. Words weren’t replied to the person riding behind but Vee’s silence was enough to let the others know this growing loathing ran deeper than their anger for the humanoid man-eating monsters outside the walls. Silent glances were exchanged by Vee’s companions and they could only increase their speed to catch up to the fastest soldier known to man, whether it be soaring through the air or galloping by horse.
“Who are we missing?” The commanding officer with the darkest heart dangerously drawled.
The younger man avoided the senior’s glacial glare. All he could focus on was a toy soldier lying on the grass by his boot. It made bile rise to his throat. He was a murderer. Of an acquaintance’s family. There was no going back now. He had to pay the price. “The oldest daughter.”
“Damn it!” The one who always examined the pieces on the chessboard bellowed loud and clear at the young soldier, “Find whoever is missing! Bring her here and make her kneel for what her family has done against the crown! Shoot her if you must. We must honor the name of the sacred monarchy who gave us our lands.” He nodded at the weapon strapped on the soldier’s back. “I expect you to not fail, cadet.”
A shaky nod was all the young man could muster. He took the gun from his back and clicked it with his eyes still trained on the toy soldier. Was this what he signed up for? He only hoped to be closer to the walls for a safer route — to be with the woman that he loved. His posture was tense as he realized that the most perfect shade of red stained his pristine trousers, the same color on the head of the boy that he watched burn in the manmade hell behind him. His screams echoed in the soldier’s mind like the ringing bell in the churches of the phony religion he now saw while going to work. “Yes, sir.” Despite the turmoil his mind fabricated, the young man stood straight and walked with a purpose towards his fellow cadets. “We have to find her,” was his only statement to them and a search party began.
Galloping horses came from everywhere all at once.
The small group of three finally reached their destination.
Horror was painted on all their faces at the sight.
Before this tragic event, these warm shades were reminiscent of the sunset touching the horizon whenever they were doing their adventures in the outside world. It was a symbol of hope for them.
Then, a blood-curdling scream tore through the twilight.
“Vee!” The brown-haired bespectacled person in their trio swiftly turned around. “Erwin, protect her!”
Without telling twice, a sturdy pair of arms instantly wrapped around the middle of the Vee person, who threw herself off her horse to scramble towards the estate of embers. Anguished wails pierced the suffocating smoke. It was almost animalistic — how Vee desperately longed to go into the fray. “Let go of me, Erwin!” She continued screaming, starlight dripping down her cheeks in a continuous waterfall. The gold irises that were once described as the sun blazed with a hatred brighter than any luminary. “Let go of me. I have to go to Mom and Dad! Daphne and Alistair are there, too. Just let me go — FUCK!”
Erwin Smith grunted every time the girl in his hold dug her elbow deep into his stomach. His chest ached at his friend and all he could do was tighten his arms around her as she screamed for her family’s names with all the air that she could breathe. It captured the attention of the remaining soldiers, who only remembered of the spitfire that managed to escape the clutches of this massacre by joining the military. Erwin met gazes with the cold commander, recognition flashing in the blue flecks of the former’s eyes.
Military Police.
“Those bastards.” The brown-haired person placed a firm hand around the sobbing girl’s arm.
“They will pay,” the girl glowered at the commanding officer. The ache inside her chest spread a hundredfold when she saw how the authority figure puffed his chest. They won. What did she do for them to slaughter every single one of her family members? What did her family do? She kept struggling in Erwin’s arms until her brown-haired friend appeared in front of her, their hands keeping her face in place. She could see her reflection on their glasses. That was all it took for the anger to dissipate and for the agony to prevail. She just lost her family. A whimper made its way through her throat, “Hange.”
All hope inside Maeve Chevalier vanished at the hair-raising gunshot reverberating from the woods within the estate.
Then another gunshot. And another. Then, a scream. A gunshot. Until the crows flew from the treetops. Finally, there was silence.
A woman with tresses of scarlet hair felt the scratches on her cheek drip sunbeams. This was supposed to be a normal afternoon of tea and scones, where the family should be welcoming home their little soldier from her current expedition. Not a day for bloodshed. The last thing that happened before the military raided their home was her little brother playing with the baby in her arms. Her baby. The woman looked down without slowing her run. Hair as red as blood and face that looked like hers, the woman felt her tears cascade down her cheeks. Her darling daughter who deserved the beauty and wonder of the entire world, who would someday become a brilliant mind that would help liberate the people in their kingdom, who was her pride and joy the moment she wailed her first cry.
She was a mother and to Hell with her life — she would do anything for her child.
Hope came in the form of a cart sitting idly at the side of the dirt trail.
The red-haired woman gazed down at her sleeping daughter and marveled at how the infant stayed calm throughout the series of unfortunate events. With her feet crumpling the leaves on the forest floor, the woman peeked through the back of the cart and found some crates with fragile belongings wrapped around in thick cloth. The woman’s eyelids flickered with hesitance. Movement from the bundle in her arms snapped her out of her reverie. Her baby opened her eyes and two pairs of gold met for the last time.
The mother brushed her lips on the baby’s forehead, tiny hands patting her chin. Her bottom lip quivered, the thought of separating with her child weighing down like the sky. Then, the sound of shouting was getting nearer and nearer. Instead of putting her daughter inside the crates, she tightened her embrace around her. She didn’t want to part with her.
The first gunshot acted like thunder in the foliage.
“I know she’s not far!”
She bit her lip to prevent the sob from coming out. One look at that beautiful faerie smile and the woman felt her heart stutter. “Are you going to Scarborough Fair?” Her voice cracked as she heard the horses lessening their distance from her. “Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. I don’t want to leave you, my little sunrise.” She composed herself to finish the song. She hoped that this would stay within her daughter’s memories, even if all the girl could see in the future was a blurry silhouette of a wailing woman desperately clinging on to the last thread connecting them. “Remember me to the one who lives there.” Her little song was about to end and she placed her forehead on the baby’s. “For once he was a true love of mine.”
Another gunshot landed on the tree a few feet away from the cart and the horses in front of the vehicle made a fuss.
The woman jumped, breath hitching. Time is of the essence and she had no choice but to tenderly place her daughter on one of the crates of painting supplies. She backed away from the cart with her hands pressed tightly on top of her heart. Feet became meters and now she was too far away from the cart to see it over the brushes.
The pain of losing her family washed over her, her knees giving out from under her skirts. She witnessed her husband get shot a dozen times on the chest, protecting her and telling her to run to get their daughter. She watched on as her mother and father got slit in the throat with the daggers they paired with their guns. At that point, the air was too much for her to intake. All she could do was clutch her baby close to her chest, praying for the gods to show them mercy — to make her wake up from her nightmares. But they never listened. Then, it was her little brother — poor, brilliant Alistair. He got the worst of it. He was trapped under the inferno that tickled Hell with its fingers. The woman couldn't get his screams out of her head as his golden skin became charred. Before she knew it, she was a spirit bringing the news of the dead. She screamed and screamed until her voice became hoarse, so unlike the dulcet one she used to sing a lullaby a few moments prior.
Behind her, the horses came to a stop. A gun was cocked and pointed at where her heart was.
The woman looked at the front, now silent and eyes devoid of life.
“This must be done. All Chevaliers are enemies of the throne and crown. This is for the King of the Walls. So, stop running and accept your fate.”
The young soldier who was appointed to kill the woman took a shaky breath, a single tear dripped down on the apple of his cheek.
“For once he was a true love of mine.”
A heart stopped and the baby cried inside the cart.
The fall of a dynasty was now a frequent thing for the history books — a dynasty that was thought to be unshakeable that not even the heavens could topple down. Just like all heroes, it fell down with only a mourning vengeance left behind — a heartened resolve to steel herself from preventing another familial slaughter. Ethereal gold was smeared on every wall of the house and shrubs of the forest. A family lost and a name forgotten.
Until a painter from the southernmost city opened her door to receive the supplies she ordered from the inner walls.
A miracle sent down by the heavens was found within the crate of her jar of paints and brushes. A baby of the most beautiful shade of scarlet greeted the painter’s vision, a beacon in the abysmal night — a dawn of another day. The painter fell in love at first sight with a single angelic dimpled smile, a constellation of light freckles covering the baby’s cheeks. A breath of awe came out of the artiste. She knows that this baby would grow up to be loved by all who meet her. An embroidery caught her attention, poking through the back of the blanket that safely wrapped around the baby girl. She carefully unfolded the material and smiled at the name she was about to call the little miracle. The painter turned back to the baby, who was cooing at her with her chubby arms outstretched. Brushing a finger against her cheek, the painter now became a mother.
“Welcome to your new home, Aurora.”
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roseloon · 2 months
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just thinking about guys who can’t be gentle.
guys who instantly lose their composure when they nestle themself in between your thighs. they’ll grip the sheets above your head before slowly thrusting into that sloppy cunt, already drenched from them eating you out earlier.
guys who’s expressions will harden when you let out a quiet whimper, they scan your face for any signs of pain before continuing very cautiously.
guys who’ll start you off slow, giving you sweet and languid thrusts that will already have you going dizzy in their arms. your mouth will fall open with a silent moan, your brown eyes watering when he thrusts his hips up just a little bit too hard. it feels good though, he knows your body so well .. more than you do even.
guys who’ll absolutely fucking torture themselves just to make sure you’re happy and feeling safe during sex. they’ll be grunting, veins bulging and eyes threatening to close as they get lost in the feel of your sweet pussy wrapping around them. the sensation is heaven, and has his heart pounding right through his chest with adrenaline. and it doesn’t help that you’re crying out for him to give you more, knowing damn well you can’t fucking take it.
guys who finally give in to their desire and fuck you just how they want, balls slapping up against the rim of your ass from the impact of their thrusts. you twist and try to move but they’ll keep you still with a hand on each of your wrists, practically pushing them into the soft bed beneath you. you cry out, but you’re silenced with a sloppy kiss from him, swallowing the sweet sounds coming from those pretty lips.
guys who’ll relish in the way you plead for them to go easy on you, to please go a little softer .. but you wanted this. so you’re gonna take it, all the way until the end. so they don’t stop, and instead order you to “shut the fuck up,”
thinking about guys who can’t be gentle, but try to .. but can’t.
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cottonconnielvr · 10 months
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ Trust me , plug!eren
warnings ✩ — mention of weed, praise, high sex, slight manipulation, mention of drugs, tummy bulge, eren giving reader drugs
It was a simple question.
“Do you trust me?”
But with the way Eren was bruising your cervix, it was the most difficult question ever heard to man. Eren followed your eyes as you squirmed underneath him. His eyes stared into yours so deeply. It was as if he was trying to get inside of you (mentally atleast) , answering for you.
Your mouth opened in an attempt to answer. His thrusts knocking your eyes to the back of your head. You let out a gasp as your hands scratched up and down Eren’s back. “I-i..i love y-mmph” This caused Eren to let out a chuckle, a smile spreading onto his face. “I love you so much more, but that’s not the answer I was looking for”
One of Eren’s hands moved down to your lower stomach, pressing onto the bulge. You whined at the feeling.
Eren’s pace slowed and he gave you the deepest longest strokes you ever got. Your breath was knocked out of you, mouth starting to get dry from the previous joint Eren smoked with you.
“Now imma ask you again, kay princess?”Eren cooed to you, grabbing your jaw and forcing eye contact.
“Do you trust me?Use your words.”
You eagerly nodded your head, “mhmm! y-yes ren I do!” she’s just so cute, Eren thought as he slowly moved his hips against yours. A warm feeling flooded Eren’s stomach as you completely submitted yourself to him. You trusted him with your life, you really did.
“Gonna take this for me, hmm?” Eren reached over and grabbed a small plastic bag with a couple white pills in it. “It’s gonna make you feel so good, I promise. You trust me right?” Eren slowly picked up his pace.
“Uh huh. Yes ren” You whined, back arching.
“Good. That’s so good princess. You’re doing soooo good for me. I’m gonna make you cum so much I swear.”
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littlerequiem · 4 days
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— a lesson in dancing ˚⁎⁺ levi ackerman x gn!reader
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Levi doesn't think you should be with an old man like him. You show him otherwise. Or: in a post-war life, Levi learns to dance again.
content — Post-war, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Some internalized ableism from Levi but Reader helps him get through it, Reader is younger than Levi, Slow dancing, Basically a whole lot of comforting Levi in this one (wc: 2.3k). For reference - I headcanon that Levi uses a wheelchair most of the time, but that at home, he'll opt for a cane.
Crossposted on AO3.
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“You should find someone younger to be with.”
At first, you aren’t sure if you heard Levi correctly. It’s still early; the sunrise barely reaches the town's tiled roofs. Sparrows nibble around you, scavenging for breakfast. Everything is at a complete standstill.
Then you glance up from this morning’s newspaper. Levi is staring at the youth gathered around the city square.  
“What did you say?” you ask.
Levi’s attention settles onto you, a half-lidded stare that’s no less charged than in his prime as the Captain.
“You’re still young," he mutters. "You’re still whole."
Well, if he didn't have your attention before, he certainly has it now.
You place your reading onto the café table, right next to the cup of coffee the waiter just brought. Your fingers linger on the edges of the newspaper, bending the corners with your thumb.
“Levi, I don’t want to be with someone else," you say, slow like you were carefully weighing each syllable with care. "I want to be with you.”
"You say that, but I can’t give you that.”
You frown, following his changing line of sight, back to the youth. In the distance, couples dance, following music coming from an accordion. They step and twirl, a resounding cheer (“ha!”) echoing with every count of twelve.
It brings you straight back to Paradis, to life within the Walls, to evenings spent in dingy taverns. Hange and Miche used to love dancing; they loved to drag you along. You wonder if Levi is thinking about those nights too.
"Are you talking about us dancing?”
The knot in Levi's throat bobs. He swallows it down with an almost bitter expression. “That, and more. Just look at me.”
“I’m looking, Levi.”
If only he knew—you’ve been looking all along.
All these years of fighting side by side, of fighting against titans and humans, of trying to bring peace to the world.
Just to arrive at a time and place where you could look at him.
And the sight grounds you.
Levi's eyes—one milky white and shuttered, the other a deep gray that reminds you of muted skies. His hair, silky black, embellished from the passage of time with strands of silver (like starlight, you think). A pearl-colored scar that twists below his lash line, running across the left side of his face, currently glowing from the dewy morning sun.
Everything about Levi has always been beautiful.
Despite that, you watch Levi retreats in his shell. His expression hardens and his knuckles tighten. It's the same old reaction you've grown accustomed to seeing. Levi did it Then, in Paradis, and he's doing it Now, in this new life.
But you? You rip through it, cut the distance apart. The feet of your chair rattles against the cobblestone of the street as you draw near. By the time you're settled at his side, you’re close enough to count the freckles splattered on the tip of nose.
“Levi, listen to me. You’re enough just the way you are. We can go through life as we please. Isn’t that enough?”
Levi remains silent, setting his posture like iron.
You tug at the hems of his shirt, twirling the fabric around your index. “Hey, c'mon now. Have I ever told you how handsome you are in the early morning?”
“Tch, don’t patronize me. You must want more than to be stuck with an old man like me.”
“What if I like my old man?” 
“You should be with someone younger.“
“Who says?”
“I’m saying.”
Levi’s deadpan expression doesn’t falter under your even gaze, but his lower lip opens up slightly, as if he were trying to even out his breathing. A blue vein tenses down his neck. You have the urge to smooth it with the back of your hands.
But you focus on his words instead.
“Levi, where’s all of this coming from?” 
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, of course, it matters. If it's making you have these thoughts, it matters.”
Levi's eyes narrow. You sigh. 
“Fine, you stubborn man. You wanna know what I see?” you say under your breath.
There’s something vulnerable tied to Levi’s gaze. You hold onto it, sliding your fingers through his hair to brush care into his scalp. Your thumbs linger over the crow’s feet permeating the corner of his eyes. A constellation of wrinkles and spots dust Levi's skin, an aftermath of time and sun exposure. You run a delicate digit over all of it, ending along his scarred lash line.
Levi swallows loudly.
“When I look at you, Levi, I see the pain of someone who was asked to grow up much too fast. I see the face of a man who had to shoulder the weight of survival all by himself. I see the life of a soldier who has fought for peace so that all of them,” your head bobs in the youth’s direction, “now get to enjoy a quiet Saturday morning where they can dance without a care in the world.”
Levi glances over your shoulders, fixing a point like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
You bring your hands along the sides of his jaw, directing his attention back to you. “Levi, you’re everything I want. We fought for a decade to be here. Why can’t you recognize that?”
He attempts to shake his head. “You deserve more.”
“That's for me to decide."
"I disagree."
"You always trusted my judgment as a soldier, so please extend me that same courtesy in this life here. Trust me to know what I want.”
“S’not the same.”
“It is. I dedicated my heart to the Scouts back then, didn’t I? And now I’m dedicating it to you.”
Levi’s ears turn pink, his lips tightening into a pout that cannot be described as anything else but coy. “Tch, don't say shit like this in public.” He attempts to lean away from your touch, but you teasingly play with strands of his hair, coxing him to utter stillness.
You lift a brow.
Levi stays quiet. Your knees bump with his, and you remain close while you watch him think your words over. Somehow, though, you can tell he’s grateful to have you here with him. You’re the one still by his side after all these years of death and pain and misery.
The one who stayed.
And Levi conveys his gratitude by reaching to you at last, slow like he were afraid to be stung. He loops his fingers around your own, his thumb gliding against the pulse point on your wrist. Once he has his hold on you, he doesn't let go, slowly stroking your skin with his thumbs.
You exhale in solace.
“So, what's the verdict?" you murmur. "Should I continue praising you?” 
He releases your hands. “Please don’t.” 
You chuckle, moving to grab the newspaper once more. Today’s headline talks of peace negotiations, negotiations that are to be handled by Commander Armin Arlert.
“Listen, I meant what I said, Captain," you tell Levi as you smooth over the article, ready to pour your attention onto it. "Like it or not, you’re stuck with me now.” 
Levi clears his throat as he takes a sip of tea. “Careful, soldier, that almost sounded like a marriage proposal.”
This time, it’s your turn to get flustered. You hide behind your wall of reading and when you peer over the newspaper, you swear there’s a ghost of a smirk tugging at Levi’s lips.
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The evening is setting. Outside, waves crash against the cliffs while seagulls croak in swarms. You don’t pay attention to the noise; you’re inside the little cottage you and Levi share, too busy tweaking the machine Onkyankopon gifted you. It's a vinyl player—a machine which lets you play music records. Admittedly, you aren’t well-versed with these modern inventions, but this one you’re excited to use.
The record you’ve placed into the vinyl player comes from Onkyankopon’s home town. It promises a soothing journey filled with emotional highs—just what you need. With a grin plastered on your face, you press the play button. The tonearm hits the record and a lovely crack sounds across the living room. You lower the volume, and turn around.
“Levi, you coming?”
You hear a grunt in response, echoing across the narrow corridor of the house. “There’s no fire under my ass, is there?”
“Just a very excited me is all.”
Several moments later, Levi walks in, cane in hand. He’s fresh out of the shower. His hair is still wet, bangs clinging to the sides of his forehead, and his cheeks still have that rosy hue that comes from him washing it thoroughly. He’s wearing a freshly ironed shirt, and what Marleyans call jeans (which, incidentally, make his ass look great). 
Your stomach flutters.
Levi raises a brow. “What did you want to show me?”
“Oh.” You blink, remembering your plan. “Right. Please, c'mon here.”
He does, walking towards you, something cautiously guarded on his face.
You roll your eyes and shoot him a playful smile. “It’s not a trap, I promise.” Your fingers move to the collar of his gray shirt, feeling the rough fabric of cotton between your fingertips. The color matches his gaze, it brings out the smoothness of his pale skin.
He really is pretty.
You tell him as such.
He scoffs, a lovely pink hue dusting the tips of his ears. “Don’t say shit like that.”
You shrug. “We’re not in public anymore, are we?”
“Spare me.”
“But I like to compliment you."
"That's not my problem."
"Fine, old man. Then I suppose I should show you.”
His eyes narrow, not unkindly or in an annoyed manner, but with the regard of someone who dislikes surprises, who knows you’re up to something.
You detach yourself from him for a moment, striding over to reach for the volume button and turning it up. As soon as the slow violin and piano tug through the air, you turn towards him with a grin.
“Let’s dance,” you announce.
To Levi’s credit, he doesn’t appear all that surprised by this turn of events. Well, he’s known you over a decade, so you suppose he’s learned a thing or two about you.
You take his wooden cane out of his hands, carefully placing it against the wall. For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other from across the small room, admiring one and another. Moonlight trickles into the room, gracing Levi with its touch. His gray stare is aglow, his hair like silver. Like starlight, indeed.
Taking a slow step in his direction, you slide into his arms, and he welcomes you like you were made to belong there all along. You take his invitation with a smile, offering him support for his leg while you bask in the comfort of his embrace. Levi places his left hand over your shoulder, the other finding a home along your ribs, fingers slotting along every bone. Safety. His touch sparks warmth across your body, and you bring your hands to the back of his neck, delicately smoothing his undercut.
“The music is starting,” you murmur into the shell of his ear. Tingles spread through your veins.
“Yeah, it is.”
The music isn’t anything like the one you heard on the square today. This track is slow and intimate, and so, your dancing adapts to it. At first, you take the lead, only taking occasional small steps back, hips swaying with the soft melody. Levi follow closely, so close that you listen to his heartbeat quicken beneath your touch.
Half a minute later, Levi surprises you by carefully taking one of your hands between his own, dragging his thumb over your knuckles. He guides you back into a slow spin, and you feel the air expand in your lungs as you take several steps away from him, watching your two shadows ripple over the silver spotlight. When he tugs you back and your vision spins, you think how perfectly your bodies align together.
“Levi, why are you so good at this?” you chastise playfully.
“Erwin used to make me attend these fancy balls in the Interior,” he says in your ear, the tenor of his voice rumbling against your skin. “I learned there.” 
“Huh, that’s true. I remember the tuxedos you and Erwin wore now that you mention it." You chuckle. "You both looked devilishly handsome.”
“We looked like two pretentious snobs, you mean.”
"You say that, but I think Erwin took you along for a reason. We always did get the funding for every expedition.”
“Yeah.” There’s a note of fondness for Erwin and past memories, things you aren't exactly privy to, but that you're glad he gets to cherish all the same. 
You come to rest a cheek close to his neck, submerging yourself with the warmth of his skin. “I guess this little dance doesn’t measure up to the lavish balls you’ve attended, right?”
His hand tightens around your own. “No, this is better.”
You smile at his words.
It isn’t until a moment later that you realize the music has stopped, that you’re both still slow dancing to silence. Outside, the sound of waves remains.
Slowly, you untangle yourself from Levi, looking at him like he were the lighthouse guiding you back to shore. Levi’s attention is already fixed on you, his face filled with quiet fondness. There's starlight in his gaze.
“You see," you say. "We can dance, you and I.”
Levi raises a hand towards you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “If we can teach your clumsy ass some rhythm, sure.”
“Hey, don’t be mean.”
Levi snorts, and before you can say anything else, he surprises you by leaning over to press a kiss over your forehead. 
And under the moonlight, you watch him at peace, and all feels right.
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— Masterlist / Join my taglist / Heart divider by saradika-graphics - the rest is by me.
Tag list: @l3visthighs, @bejewelledd, @nube55, @loyal2rin, @leviisgf, @thephantomtheory, @levilxvr, @halloweenmedic, @notgoodforlife, @sixpennydame, @youre-ackermine, @starrylevi
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thewritingwrath · 17 days
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Levi Ackerman thighs are a gift from God.
(That also need to be wrapped around my hips.)
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riewritten · 3 months
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another entry for...
DUSK IN THE BRIGHTEST if it was an OC-insert instead
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yoongikapi · 4 days
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nights with him || levi || oneshot
fluff
aot masterlist
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late at night, long after the sun has set was always your favorite time of day. after all the paperwork, after a long, tiring day of expeditions and strategic talk, you loved to just unwind with your boyfriend. of course being humanity’s strongest comes with a lot of responsibilities. he’s away longer, has more paperwork, and as a result you don’t get to see him as much as you’d like. but at the end of the day after all the work, he always comes home to you. just like now.
you wrap your arms around him as the front door closes; the cold air from outside still whirling around the entryway. he wraps an arm around your waist while the other hangs his cloak on the hook. he smiles at you and you’re grateful he’s home safe.
after eating and showering, he joins you in bed. both sets of hands go to their designated spots. his grab around your waist and pull you close, yours cup his face; thumb stroking his cheek. this is your favorite part of your nights. watching and holding him close; holding him like he’d never go anywhere again. you were so proud and thankful for this man and by looking into his eyes you could tell he thought the same about you.
smiling, you ask him to tell you about his day and he does. you start to doze to his sweet voice, and cuddle up closer to his chest,
“your voice is making me fall asleep” you sigh.
“are you saying i’m boring you, brat?”
you chuckle, “no i’m saying i feel safe with you”
he shifts and pulls you on top of his chest, reaching an arm under your shirt and scratching your back. he doesn’t respond, but he places kisses on top of your head and tightly hugs you, knowing he doesn’t want to let you go.
<3
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missroro · 2 years
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ATTACK ON TITAN:
TYRONE BALDOA
"𝑮𝒐𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒕 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈, 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒈𝒐."
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"𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒔, 𝒌𝒊𝒅. 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒐 𝒆𝒙𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏."
☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎
INFORMATION
NAME: Tyrone Baldoa
ALIAS: Ty, Rone, Baldoa, Hot Shot
BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION
SPECIES: Human
GENDER: Male
HEIGHT: 185 cm
WEIGHT: 90 kg
RELATIVE:
• The Baldoa Family
- Unnamed Mother [Deceased]
- Tyra Baldoa [Deceased Twin Sister]
BIRTHDAY: June 4th
AGE: 36
BIRTHPLACE: Shinganshina Distric
RESIDENCE: Wall Rose
STATUS: Deceased
PROFESSIONAL INFORMATION
OCCUPATION: Soldier
RANK:
• Vice Captain, Second In-Command
AFFILIATION:
• Survey Corps
- Special Operation Squad
FORMER RANK: Squad Leader
FORMER AFFILIATION : Second Squad
GRADE: A+
OTHER INFORMATION
TITAN KILLS:
• SOLO: At Least 91
• IN TEAM: 15
• TOTAL: At Least 106
☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎
TYRONE BALDOA VIBES
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𝐄𝐮𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚 - 𝐃𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫
"𝑨𝒔𝒌 𝒎𝒆 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉."
𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐝𝐞 - 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐡
"𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕, 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔."
𝐒𝐤𝐲 - 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐢 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢
"𝑭𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒌𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏'. 𝑰'𝒎 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉."
𝐈 𝐀𝐦 - 𝐉𝐨𝐫𝐣𝐚 𝐒𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐡
"𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒃𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆."
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐀𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜
"𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒎 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒏𝒐."
☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎
*none of this pics are mine. Credit to their owner whoever they may be. Found on pinterest.
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writing-bakugo · 1 year
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Rags and Riches ~ Levi Ackerman
1. Lace Shoes
youtube
 "Can you believe this?" howled Theodora Aetos, with a letter in hand.
"It's okay, my dear," Tobias wrapped his arms around Theodora's tightly wrapped waist. "We can still have a party without food from the Heisman's."
"A party without the Heisman's food?" scoffed Theodora. "We're ruined! Everyone knows that the King does not show up to coming of age parties unless it's to his specifications!"
Fourteen-year-old Enyo sat with her lips glued shut in a pressed frown. She stared at her parents bickering back and forth for the party tomorrow, and wondered what she could do to escape the room. Her blond hair was tied back in a proper, tight braid.
"Dora, we can substitute with the Klingston's."
"No! I told you I would never be doing service there again. They refused to give me a dozen scones! The Heisman's have really disgraced us."
Enyo pressed her lips even tighter. She wanted to point out that the Heisman's were the best people in the Royal Capital, but now was not the time.
"There's no question of the affections everyone has for Enyo," said Tobias. "If not the King, then another high-ranking official will barter for her."
 "No! Enyo is destined to be the King's third mistress!" Theodora walked around the polished grand table and lifted Enyo's long, tidy hair. "That's the only place fitting for my daughter."
"May...maybe I can speak with Trisha and Klause?" Enyo gently pulled her hair from her mother's hands. "They might help me because of the work I did for them last summer."
Theodora tapped the diamond earring on Enyo's ear and hummed. "Fine."
Enyo stood with her golden eyes on the ground and quietly excused herself. Her green silk dress blew lightly in the evening breeze when she walked down the street. Enyo turned down the corner to the main street and headed toward the polished metal sign that read, Heisman's Pastry Shop.
The Military Police Center's door clattered open and Captain Nile Dawk stumbled out. His gaze landed triumphantly on Enyo and she bowed slightly and took a large gulp. In the golden shadows of the evening, Enyo seemed aflame with nerves.
 "Enyo!" barked Nile.
Like a squirrel, Enyo froze. Nile's boney hand gripped onto Enyo's weak arm and spun her to face him, layers of her navy silk dress in his grip. He had a dark, wolf like gaze.
"Ca...captain Dawk," Enyo meekly said with her eyes pointed at her white lace shoes in the dirt.
"One more day," Nile lifted her rounded chin. When Enyo's wide and worried and...pleasurable eyes met his, a smirk grew on his mouth.
Enyo tried to pull away. Nile's grip tightened and pulled Enyo in closer. "Tomorrow night's going to be amazing."
"You're hurting me, Captain," whispered Enyo. "Please let go."
He gripped her tighter and Enyo turned her head to the Heisman's bakery. Her breaths were uneven and her cheeks flushed and she wondered if anyone was going to leave the Heisman's. She wanted someone to walk out and force Captain Dawk off of her.
Enyo's elegant shoes tripped over each other as she pulled away from Nile. "Cicely is expecting me."
Nile sighed and dropped Enyo. She rubbed her wrist, curtsied politely, and darted down the street. Every heavy gulp was like trying to breathe through smoke and her mind soared with the heavy weight: Would Captain Dawk be the one who bought her tomorrow? Was that even possible?
Tomorrow was her coming of age party. Which meant at the end of the day, her parents could sell her for a huge chunk of change. Tomorrow. Enyo sprinted down an alleyway. Tomorrow. She turned down a street and ran up to the creek. Tomorrow.
Enyo's breaths were loud and ugly when her feet slammed against mud and her steps slowed. There was one mystery Enyo had the privilege to keep to herself. In her world of jewelry, dresses, diplomacy, and rules, the empty field of Wall Sheena was the only mystery of defiance. This field, about the size of one street block with two, tall righteous trees in the center, was the only place that Enyo could forget her status and breathe. 
 "Take that!" Enyo rallied and reeled her leg backward. She kicked her expensive dainty shoe off her foot and watched it soar across the field. She grinned and kicked her other shoe off. Enyo collapsed back onto the grass and welcomed the sun's final rays before it sank beyond the walls. Her breaths evened and her back slowly itched and Enyo decided the night would be hers. The moon loomed as gently as a shadow above and she let her worries seep into the roots of the ground.
Tonight, Enyo lapped up her last moments of freedom as free as they were. Every itch reminded her that she was indeed, a fourteen-year-old girl who didn't need taming. Her arms rested against the ground and soon, the mud soothed the ache in her wrist and was gladly welcomed as she forgot about Captain Nile Dawk and his menacing words.
Enyo laid for what felt like hours. The stars blazed bright way too soon and Enyo grumbled her way to her feet. Her eyes strained against the grass as she began a shoe hunt. Enyo couldn't help but smile to herself, because if she were to ever fall in love, it would be as grand as this shoe hunt. It would be difficult and as bare as her naked feet against the mud of the only field in the Royal Capital and it would be just as satisfactory as finding her tiny, lace shoes.
"Now where's the other one?" Enyo murmured and scanned the dark ground.
"Whoa!" Enyo's intake was loud as she backpedaled from the edge of the hole. How did she manage to get this far in the field? No way her shoe had soared this far!
Everyone knew about the hole. The one-way ticket to the Underground, a place that no one wanted to be. The rumor was, if you fell in, you'd never be granted access back out, even if you could pay the fees. Enyo had never heard of anyone actually falling in, of course, but still, it was enough to make anyone's skin crawl. The people from the Underground were barbarians and criminals who didn't even know about hygiene or health—at least, that's what Enyo was taught at the academy.
Enyo crawled on her hands and knees to the edge of the hole and peered in. Her mother would kill her if she lost yet another pair of shoes! And if her mother ever found out her shoe was lost in the hole? Enyo would be killed twice over!
Calm, steel eyes bore into Enyo's golden ones. She gasped and jumped and squeezed her eyes shut. Shivers ran down Enyo's spine when she took a big gulp and slowly looked back over the edge. Starlight framed his paper white and sickly skin. His hair was dark and messy. In fact, most of him was messy. A raggedy shirt was wrinkled and tucked into pants that were praying they could stay on his boney frame. His boots were dark and had clear holey patches and still, his gaze was unwavering. Silent. Like he had a thoughtless mind.
But his hands?
Cradled a pristine white lace shoe.
Enyo jumped to her feet and ran. What her mother never found out wouldn't hurt her! She'd just say that her shoe was lost like countless others and yeah, Enyo would get hit, but it was better than anyone finding out that Enyo had been near the hole. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Find Chapter 2 here!
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nightfall-kachiniko · 6 months
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Hange running past you, papers in hand as she yells out a quick “excuse me, pretty girl!” with a wink and a smile.
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