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empathyisagiftandacurse · 8 months

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Continued from here @sunshine-and-ladybugs

“Aside from the fright of seeing you lose consciousness and struggling to reach you before I passed out, that was a relatively mild attack.” Lexi shrugged. “No less terrifying if I think about it too much, but… At least we’re not any worse off from it, as far as I can tell…”

She smiled. “It’s probably the most apt term for me, since I did start out studying botany and its medicinal uses before I joined the Foundation.

“Yes, I am happy. Oh I didn’t mean the basement is a bad place to work! It’s fully furnished, and no different from the rest of the building. But yes. The people at the Foundation are wonderful.”

She paused and read Giorno’s expression and emotions, thinking through her next words.

“Joseph Joestar. His stand can manifest photographs. This photo was taken by his stand when he and his grandson began searching for the cause of his daughter’s sudden illness.

“She had stand fever, even though she was never in danger or in a situation that would awaken a stand. Her stand started strangling her, around her organs and spine and crushing her. She lost consciousness, became feverish and weak, like she had a bad cold, and was unable to fight its effects…”

Lexi paused again. She could tell that meant something to Giorno but she did not press for information.

“Every Joestar had stands awaken in them around the same time. The cause…is very strange, but somehow this body…”

She pointed to the shadowy man’s birthmark. “-When its stand awoke, everyone connected to the body’s bloodline was affected. And He had a stand that could sense the Joestars; even those living all the way in Japan. He hired a team of assassins and sent them out to stop the Joestar party from finding him while he was in Egypt.

“He… Had a way to sense other people with the potential of developing stands, even dormant ones. When I found his manor, he sensed me and came out to question me. He kept crowding me, trying to persuade me to be his friend. I could see the energy from his stand and his emotional aura. I was terrified…” She swallowed thickly. “But every time I tried to run, he was there. Right beside me. I could not get away p. His falcon attacked me, and he used that as an excuse to escort me inside and treat my wound… And that was my last contact with the outside world for months…”

Lexi hugged herself and stayed quiet for a while before tentatively resuming her story.

“Dio kept trying to awaken a stand from me. He poked me with a strange arrow. He had one of his Allies point a gun at me, while he wondered out loud if it was worth the risk of killing me to awaken a stand, or keep me around as I was… I was useless to him. But he was intrigued by my ability to see stand auras and he wished for information about the Speedwagon Foundation, my family, the Joestars… everything… So he let me live as an unwilling guest in his manor.

“Most of the women he saw were not that fortunate… I…” She swallowed thickly and shuddered. “I saw their bodies, drained of blood. Just like the ones in the Canary Islands… He had a pile of coins and riches, and he let the corpses rot on it until his servants removed the bodies…”

“Because I took a call meant for my father, I ended up temporarily agreeing to work for the Speedwagon Foundation. I went to Cairo to search for signs of several missing Foundation agents and other missing persons. Every time they got close to finding Dio’s hideout, the agents disappeared. I knew I did not need to get close to it to find their auras, so I wanted to try to help find them. They warned me not to go to where their agents last reported their locations, but since my family was already trying to help them take care of Mrs. Joestar, I knew why the Joestars were hunting Dio. It was the only thing I did know for certain. I feared a war between stands would break out, with mass casualties. I knew Dio would not care how many people died for him.

“I begged Dio to help me research ways to stop stand fever, hoping for a peaceful solution…But… he was determined to kill all of them, including his minions who deflected to the Joestars’ side. He kept twisting my words, trying to make me question everything about myself and my beliefs. He only asked to be friends, yet… somehow… Accepting seemed too dangerous to risk it.

“He believed…the body he had stolen was fighting him, and keeping him vulnerable. He thought he would be invincible once he drank Joestar blood. It didn’t work. They defeated him, and the body turned to ash… Although all of them were wounded and several of their friends died in the battle. There were casualties throughout Cairo, too… The cause was hidden in the news but these articles cover it.”

She showed some newspaper clippings in the slideshow on her computer as proof. She paused again, unsure if she should continue her story.

Lexi swallowed. “This is where things become very strange…”

Like they weren’t already?

“…You see…that Star birthmark is a mutation passed down by the Joestar family.” She showed some pictures of various shoulders sporting various sizes of purplish Star birthmarks.

“Dio…was not a Joestar… He was a vampire… The same one who killed Joseph Joestar’s great grandfather in that ship explosion I showed you, in 1889…”

She waited a moment as she gradually added on more bad news.

“Dio was the monster in the coffin that Lady Erina had sunk to the bottom of the sea.”

She showed more pictures on the laptop now, of Dio posing in the shadows. One photo was digitally colored to reveal his face and hair color, and cruel smirk.

“Dio is the one who went on a murder spree and collected Stand Users around the world… And Dio… Sired some children… With his decapitated head attached to the body of Jonathan Joestar…”

Lexi stared down at her plate, unable to make herself look at Giorno right now. She could feel his emotions and knew it was an incredibly difficult story to process.

#long post #tw Dio disaster from Star Dust Crusaders spoilers and death mention #sunshine_and_ladybugs #Lexi Calandrina rp #golden resolve #verse: moving forward #poor Giorno got whiplash from this post

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gayassdbz · 9 months

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So Much for Stardust

#part 3 jotaro #jotaro kujo #jjba #my art #jotaro #star dust crusaders #jjba sdc #part 3

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artidoesthings · 2 years

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Stellar Knight's crew name ideas:

The Star Dust Crew, Solstice Knights, Solstice Defenders, Shooting Stars, Stellas (yes, I meant to take off the r at the end)

SHOOTING STARS,,,,

i like That One

#i only saw part of the ask and I thought Star Dust crew was gonna be stardust crusaders #timeskip au

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musical-shit-show · 1 month

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little taste of heaven

Pairing: Adam (Hazbin Hotel) x Sinner!Reader

Inspiration: Prompts #53 (“why don’t you make me?”) from Prompt List #1 and #78 (“oh, i’m gonna fucking ruin you.”) from Prompt List #2 with added inspiration taken from a request from the lovely @odins-nsfw

Warnings: cursing, Adam is an asshole (what else is new), tiny bit of angst if you squint, general kinda rough smut (18+, MINORS DNI!!!), oral sex (female receiving), face sitting, digital manipulation, unprotected sex, Adam and reader are definitely toxic, enemies that are also lovers :)

Word Count: 2,149

Author’s Note: This took me a little longer to write but I’m very happy with how it turned out! Definitely getting more comfortable with writing smut, and writing for Adam is still proving to be very fun. Thanks to everyone who has interacted with my other Adam one shots (which you can read here and here); it seriously means so much to see the positive feedback. I still have one more request in my inbox, but I will definitely be writing for more Hazbin characters as the year goes on (especially since we don’t know when the show is coming back). But if you’d like to submit an ask, check out my About Me page, Prompt Lists, and other works in my Masterlist! Thanks and happy reading, depraved sinners!

“Hey, toots, settle a bet for us, would ya?” you heard Angel Dust call to you from across the hotel lobby. Ever since Charlie Morningstar successfully staved off an attack from Heaven’s army, you decided to join her crusade towards redeeming the seemingly irredeemable.

You were first assigned as a quasi-concierge, since you had spent most of your time in Hell bouncing from one side of the Pride Ring to the other. You hopped up from your desk and met Angel, who was slumped across the bar; Husk was silently cleaning a glass, a small smirk on his feline face.

“What’s up, guys?” you breathed, counting the seconds until your shift ended. You were grateful for the free accommodations that the hotel provided, but you didn’t expect the afterlife would involve diving into the wonderful world of customer service.

The porn star shifted his gaze to Husk, and you could tell they were both up to something. “Are ya fuckin’ the angel or what?” the bartender asked, his voice gruff. Angel almost spit out the swig of malt liquor he had just taken.

You feigned confusion, turning to the spider-like demon. “Angel Dust, I think I would know if I were fucking the biggest porn star—”

“Actor.”

“—Actor,” you corrected yourself, “on this side of Hell. You should know he’s not my type, Husk, honest.”

Angel Dusk tsked. “You know that’s not who we’re talking about, babycakes,” he said, his voice lowering, “We’re talking about the angel. Or, I guess the fallen angel.”

Oh, shit.

You shifted uncomfortably on the barstool, swirling the whiskey glass Husk had placed in front of you. “No clue what you mean by that.”

“Bullshit,” Husk said testily.

“See, I told you she’d lie,” Angel drawled, smiling smugly, “You can read it on her pretty little face.” You could feel the heat creeping up your neck.

Yes, you had been fucking Adam. And yes, you had been keeping it from the rest of the hotel residents. Even after showing up—in a new demonic form, no less—to be redeemed, you knew no one, not even Charlie, trusted him fully after the last botched exorcism and direct attack on the hotel itself.

But he was drawn to you almost immediately, singling you out as someone to pursue and torment. And stupidly, you found yourself attracted to him, despite your better judgement.

“Who told you,” you deadpanned.

Angel Dust’s gaze flickered from you to Husk and back again. He sure knew how to be a fucking tease.

“Your stupid boyfriend,” Husk confirmed, not wanting to torture you any longer.

“Ya shoulda seen him bragging about it last night,” Angel added, no doubt living for the drama this would cause, “He’s got some loose lips once the booze starts flowin’. Real keeper if ya ask me.”

Stomach in knots, you attempted to put up a brave face, even with their taunting. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you said definitively, now feeling anger welling up inside you.

This was all Adam’s fault. He couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut and now you were the one dealing with the humiliating fallout. “Fine, fuck buddy, whatever,” Angel corrected, watching as you stood up from the barstool in a huff, “Doesn’t sound like it’ll last very much longer, given the look on your face.”

You rolled your eyes, completely over this conversation. “Would you excuse me?” you asked rhetorically, your voice dripping with poison. Even Angel looked perturbed for a moment.

Husk glanced over to his companion as you hopped off the barstool, practically seething, “Yeah, ‘course toots,” Angel called after you, still clearly tickled by this development. He loved this kind of soap opera drama bullshit.

You were still able to hear Husk say “Oh she’s gonna fuckin’ murder him,” as you climbed the steps and stomped to Adam’s room.

Pounding on the door, anger and embarrassment grew like a vicious virus inside you. When no one answered, you pressed your ear against the door and was met with the irritating sound of a whiny electric guitar.

“Perfect,” you muttered to yourself as you grabbed the ring of keys Charlie had given you when you were on shift. Even though you had technically clocked out, you weren’t above bending the rules to give Adam a piece of your mind.

You threw open the door, letting the thud as it hit the wall startle the fallen angel strumming his guitar lazily. “Jesus fu—” he started to say as he shifted on his bed, but then his eyes softened at the sight of you, “Oh, hey babe—”

“Don’t you ‘hey babe’ me, you fucking prick,” you spat, fire practically spewing from your mouth, “You’ve been telling people about us?!”

A tense pause.

“Maybe.”

Another pause.

“No?”

You could feel your eye beginning to twitch.

“Ugh, fine. Yes. But what’s the big deal?” Adam asked incredulously, finally putting his guitar down.

You paused for a moment, your anger simmering. The big deal was that you were embarrassed. That the thought of you and Adam going public made you look like a desperate sinner latching onto the only other wayward soul that would look your way.

And hell, you actually liked sneaking around, until he ruined it with his big, dumb mouth of his.

And maybe, just maybe, you were afraid that once the novelty wore off and everyone knew about you two, Adam would leave you behind and move onto the next shiny new toy to waltz into the hotel.

“Cat got your tongue, dollface?” he prodded, wanting to get a rise out of you. It was one of his new favorite pastimes.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, your anxiety being replaced by annoyance. “Jesus fucking Christ do you ever shut up?” The former angel smirked, his eyes flitting up and down your form.

“First off, don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” he said as you rolled your eyes, “It’s fucking rude.”

You wanted to punch him.

“Second, why don’t you make me?”

That was the last straw.

You lunged at him, practically pouncing on top of him to kiss him hungrily. Adam knew exactly how to push your buttons, and pathetic as it was, you actually fell for it every time.

You were straddling him, and felt him wince as you bit his lip in the heat of the angry makeout. Adam knew you were pissed, and the more you fought for dominance, the harder he felt himself get.

After all, pleasure always tasted sweeter with a little pain. And you tasted fucking delicious.

Adam groaned as you pulled away from him, your face still radiating with heat and anger. You weren’t letting him off that easily, and he knew it.

“Lie down,” you muttered, your eyes scanning his smug expression. “Now.” Wordlessly, Adam complied, lying on his back as you removed your pants and underwear swiftly.

Adam raised his head slightly just in time to watch you remove your shirt and throw it across the room in a huff. He waited patiently for you to do his own disrobing on his behalf; the lazy bastard loved when you rode him.

But he didn’t feel the desperate grasp of your hands around his cock.

No, instead, you climbed up his chest, until you were eye to eye, his gold pupils dilated. “I’m going to have to take drastic measures to shut you up, aren’t I?”

Adam felt his pulse quicken. “What’d you have in mind?”

A sinful smile spread across your face. “Something I know you hate,” you teased, cupping his face gently, doing your best to seduce him into submission, “And something I happen to know your bestie Luci is very talented at.”

Adam gripped your arm, pulling your hand away from his face. You became frightened for a second, before he started peppering the inside of your wrist with small love bites.

The games you played toed a dangerous line between love and hate, and luckily Adam had been fucking you long enough to understand the moves you were making.

“I’m not eating you out,” he said, his expression darkening, “And don’t try to bait me with that little pretty boy. It won’t work.”

You felt your pulse quicken; clearly you had struck a nerve. You just had to push him a little further to get your way.

“Is that why Lilith really left?” you said, rolling your hips against his, feeling how hard he was underneath you, “Because you couldn’t…satisfy her the way that Lucifer could?”

You knew this would send him over the edge. And the moment you looked into his burning gold eyes, you knew you had won.

A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

“Oh, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he growled, tugging at the hair at the nape of your neck. You smirked as he finally complied and laid on his back. Adam would rather give up control than have his skills in the bedroom be compared to the King of Hell.

You knew he was insecure, and if he was going to be a dick about it, the least you could do was take advantage.

Before he could change his mind, you placed each thigh on either side of his head, kneeling until your aching core met the lower half of his face. After a few seconds of resistance, you felt his lips part and flinched as his tongue slid into you.

“I can’t believe this was—ah—” you bucked your hips as he found his way to your clit, “This was the only way to get you to shut the fuck up.” You felt a hum of disapproval as his slender hands found his way to your ass.

You smiled to yourself as you felt the annoyed hum that radiated from your stubborn lover’s mouth. Finding your pace, you felt the tension in your abdomen rising as Adam continued to eat you out.

For not loving the act, you had to admit he was good at it. Feeling his tongue swirl inside you sent a shiver down you spine, and you felt a yelp leave your lips as he slapped your ass as you continued to buck on top of him.

In retaliation, he tried teasing you with small sucks and flicks, but you didn’t care; the fact that he was focusing on your gratification for a change was rewarding enough.

After a few minutes, though, the fallen angel had had enough of your domineering; if he was going to finish you off, he was going to do it his way.

Coming up for air, he placated you by circling one of his fingers around your clit. “Alright baby, you got what you wanted,” he breathed, “Now it’s my turn.”

In one fell swoop, he flipped you over onto your back, and disrobed in the blink of an eye. ‘Showoff,’ you thought to yourself, annoyed by the lack of his mouth on your pussy.

Before you could protest, two of his long fingers found his way inside you, pumping and curling to hit your sweet spot.

“After this, I’m gonna fuck you into oblivion,” Adam muttered, his tempo growing more erratic, “You’re lucky I’m even bothering to get you off after your little outburst, but you can consider it a favor this time.”

You tried to focus more on satisfying sensation you were feeling than his bitching. “It’s the least you could do after that bullshit you pulled with Husk and Angel,” you said, feeling a bead of sweat roll down your back as you tightened around him, “They’ll fucking crucify me.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, baby,” he cooed, resting his thumb on your bud as he continued to pump his fingers into you, “Now be a good girl and cum for me.”

It only took a few more moments of stimulation for you to humiliatingly come undone around him, knowing he’d make you pay for it later.

Getting off always seemed to come with a price when it came to fucking Adam; at the very least you were able to shut him up for a few glorious minutes.

You contemplated if the grilling from the other guests and constant bickering was worth it, but you didn’t have much time to change your mind. Adam pulled you off your back and onto your stomach, and you winced as he slammed his cock into you, your ass on full display as he took you from behind.

You gripped the sheets, the friction of him inside you equal parts painful and gratifying. ‘Another question for another day,’ you thought, burying your face into the mattress as he fucked you at an agonizingly delicious pace.

Right now, you had a pissy angel to placate and a couple of sinners to swear to secrecy.

Royally fucked didn’t even begin to describe the mess you had gotten yourself into.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

thanks for reading! please like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed and want to read more! :)

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amywritesthings · 1 year

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silver underground. / chapter four.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x F!Reader (Attack on Titan / Shingeki no Kyojin)

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Day 97 - Better known as the first day you reunite with Section Commander Hange Zoe, who has their own plans to recovering your memory.

Warnings: Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Eventual Romance, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Flashbacks, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Nonbinary Hange Zoe, Angry!Levi, Other Additional Tags to be Added As the Story Progresses

( Read on AO3 )

Previous Chapter. / Next Chapter. | Masterlist.

CHAPTER FOUR.

There is something therapeutic about cleaning.

Clearing stubborn dust in every corner and pesky grime from the floorboards brings a sense of accomplishment — a sense of control, to your day.

It's not what you thought you'd be doing in the midst of preparing for your first official training session with the military, but Petra Ral claims this is how the Scouts indoctrinate all the new recruits.

A rite of passage, so to speak, to learn how important it is to mind your space.

(She's quick to mention you've already completed said rite in another life.)

Petral Ral, better known to you as the girl from Erwin's file, is a devastatingly perky and short redhead with stars in her eyes. Despite the harrowing business of being a Scout, she speaks like she's on the most incredible adventure of her life.

A novel-quality crusade.

She greets you with such excitement upon your arrival with Erwin Smith that you can't help but feel relief that this is your intermittent handler. You don’t remember Petra, not in the way she hopes you will, but she parades you around the rendezvous castle like it's your first day.

Because, according to her, she's just repeating history: she was the one to do this just a few short years ago.

Before you get your hands on military gear and weapons, Petra first offers you a broom and dust pan. "Scrubbing down the common room mess space is first priority," she supplies, holding up her own broom. "You might want to take a cloth to keep your hair out of your face. When you're done with the mess space, you can start on your room. You hold a broom like this, and—"

"Petra," you start, and she waits patiently for your reply. "I'm not braindead, just blank. I remember how to clean."

"You do?"

"Yes," you reassure with a breathy laugh, holding the broom handle with a half-assed sweep of your arm. "Ta-da."

She squeaks in embarrassment, bringing her gloved hand to her mouth.

"Gosh, I'm sorry! This really is just like old times! I'm getting deja vu just looking at you."

"In a good or bad way?"

"Oh, good. Definitely good. You were so fun back then," Petra reassures with a bright grin. "But go, go, go — I'll see you for lunch!"

So you're here some odd hours later, scrubbing down the common room mess space and clearing your swirling mind.

You don't know where Petra's gone, but she can't possibly be far.

This is nice.

Quiet. Manageable.

Tirelessly flinging cobwebs from the ceiling corners, you wipe a hand over your shining forehead and draw a short sigh. This place is looking good. Beyond an improvement to what you first faced upon entering this seemingly abandoned castle.

At least you remember how to make a room spotless—

“Ahh!”

A shrill shriek from behind breaks your peace.

It’s so loud that the broom handle fumbles from your hands and clangs to the floor.

“There she is!”

Startled, you turn to address the danger head-on.

A person with wild brown hair and a military uniform stands in the door of the hallway, fingers folded tightly together at the center of their chest. The Scout crest at their breast distorts by how hard they press their folded palms into their body, like they’re using every ounce of willpower not to—

Too late.

Their arms swing wide as they near. Before you can open your mouth, your body’s being squeezed into a tight hug.

“And look — all limbs intact! Wow, talk about a lucky break, huh? I thought for sure we’d be seeing a missing appendage or two.”

For good measure, they back up just enough to pick up your hand from the wrist. Tugging the eye glasses from their forehead, they squint and lean in to observe the remaining bandages.

You should say something.

What do you say?

“Uh — hi?”

Nailed it.

Belatedly, the preoccupied person flashes a look back to your face, considering in a haze.

Then the dots connect.

“Oh, right! Duh. Maybe no missing limbs but you’re missing memories. Allow me to re-introduce myself: Hange, Section Commander, at your service.” They smile wide. “Captain Levi told me where you were staying, so I thought maybe I’d make a visit.”

Wait.

Captain Levi knows where you’re staying?

(Why does it always have to circle back to him?)

“And when you weren’t there, I asked around — Petra knew!”

“Oh,” you reply lamely, embarrassed that you can’t match their elated energy. Hange doesn’t hide their excitement, so you cannot hide your hesitance.

Maybe the surprise touch has something to do with it, but this encounter already feels different. As if Hange is a long-awaited crisp breeze on the first day of Spring. You find yourself wanting to hug them again, to see if the spark lingers.

“Yeah. Commander Erwin gave me over to Petra for the week. I haven’t seen the Captain.”

“Oh, you haven’t? Color me a little shocked.” Hange drops their arms from you to wipe some strands of hair from their face. “Well? Any new discoveries since you first woke up?”

“A few,” you admit, bending to pick up the broom lying on the ground. “Commander Erwin got me to remember a little bit about where I came from and how, uh… being in the Scouts was kind of my whole life.”

“Part of the job description,” Hange bemuses before mimicking Erwin’s deep voice for the salute. “Dedicate Your Heart — every artery and then some.”

The endearing attempt at imitating the commander makes you snort despite yourself, and you sweep one final pile of dust into the pan.

“At least you feel familiar. The Commander and the Captain were like blank slates.”

It’s as though you’ve said the most magical thing to the Section Commander's ears. Their smile now bursts into a grin.

“Ch’yeah, I’d say you and I got into some wacky adventures in our day. Of course, only when you weren’t so busy in the corner with Levi.” The grin falters if only for a fraction. “Though I must say, I’m really surprised he wasn’t the first.”

Your brows knit. “The first what?”

“The first person that you would remember — at least, in feeling.”

“Everyone keeps implying that,” you tell them, crossing the room to settle the broom against the frame of a bookshelf. “Except the one time that I saw him, which was the first day, it sounded like he hated me.”

“Hated you?” Hange blurts. “Captain Levi hating you is about as true as me hating titans.”

You blink. “That… comparison escapes me, Section Commander.”

They lean in with a flippant shrug. “Hange, please. And I don’t hate titans at all. They’re incredible, fascinating, the thing I think about all the time.” Heat rises to your face. Hange doesn’t let up. “I think he’s just a bit grumpy since — well, I don’t know if I’m allowed to tell you.”

Eyes widening, you step closer to the other person.

“No — do. I wanna hear it. Seriously, living in the dark about this whole thing is probably a hindrance to remembering anything at all.”

“Hey, that’s what I said.” Hange laughs. “Still in sync, even when you’re not You!"

They pause for a moment, holding up their index finger.

"Actually let’s shelve the Levi debacle for a bit, because I thought maybe I could give you something and see what you think about it.”

“Give me something?” you repeat.

“Don’t get too excited. It’s not like a gift or anything.” They reconsider, slipping a hand into the breast pocket of their uniform jacket. “Well, for you, it might be.”

It’s a small and flat brown box, only a few centimeters tall and not very wide.

Hange holds it out for you, nodding down to it — take it — and you meet them in the middle.

Nothing sparks while holding the box, and it takes every ounce of your curiosity not to give the thing a preliminary shake to hear what’s inside.

Your fingers pry the top lid off—

And it hits.

Like a lightning strike to the heart, you drop the lid to the floor, hand limp.

Silver — unassuming, dainty, but very obviously a necklace. There is barely anything special about the fragile jewelry, but emotion swells and threatens to choke you up and out. From the bottom of the chain dangles a small gemstone, swirling in stormy gray color. It looks well-loved, worn, but still manages to glimmer in the soft sunlight peering in from the open windows.

The pad of your index finger brushes along the smooth surface.

A drop of water splashes on it.

(Are you crying?)

Glancing up to look at Hange confirms that you’re not only crying, but sobbing.

Streams of tears drag along your cheeks as you let out a broken breath, confused yet relieved. The bottom half of the box drops, too, joining its sister on the floor as you clutch the necklace to your chest.

You can’t explain any of this, but you know.

You know this is the one thing you subconsciously hoped to see, to feel, one day.

“You kept it.”

The blurted sentence is barely above a murmur.

Hange draws an inhale through their nose.

“When Captain Levi brought you in on horseback after your accident, I was the first to receive you,” they explain, softer this time. You watch them through a watery lens. “There was little to no time. Your uniform was torn to pieces. When the doctors were preparing you for the emergency surgery — you’d lost a lot of blood while traveling, and we weren’t sure how deep the cut wounds went — I took that necklace off of you in hopes that one day I could give it back.”

Your heart swells with an overwhelming gratitude you can’t quite place into words. Hange nears cautiously and places a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“That necklace went everywhere with you. In all our years of serving together, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take it off.”

“It’s important to me,” you reason with certainty. Hange nods with empathy.

You don't even realize what you're saying, but it comes from the heart.

“...I’ve had it since I was a kid. This was the only thing I owned in the Underground. Before I joined the Scouts, I didn’t even own my own clothes. They were — they were stolen. Everything was stolen. I had nothing. Nothing except this.”

With trembling fingers, you try to unhook the clasp and fail. Twice. Hange tsk-tsk’s with their tongue and drop their hand to close around both of your hands.

“C’mon, you big softie. Let me?”

You sniff and nod, pushing hair away to give them an avenue to your neck. Hange easily situates the chain around your neck and secures the clasp. The cold chain presses to your body like a weighted blanket.

Your shoulders slack with its comfort the minute you can press the gem between your thumb and index finger.

“There. Feel better?”

“Loads,” you admit in a sigh, wiping your eyes with your free hand. “Sorry for the outburst, Hange, it just—”

“Hey, happy to help. Look! You remembered something.”

They’re right.

Something so small brought such a visceral emotion to the forefront.

Rolling the gemstone between your fingers, you forcefully smile in return. What you say next rolls right off your tongue. “You know... you’ve always asked me where this came from, and now I’ve accidentally divulged that story. Talk about a dirty trick, Hange.”

“Whoa, I—” They start but reconsider. Hange doesn’t give it away immediately, but the section commander’s surprise is palpable the longer your words linger in the air. “Damn, you remember that?”

You do.

Clear as day, in fact, with the way they’re looking at you right now. Sitting right in this very room — you were both at the table situated in the corner, though it's now crowded by four chairs you've scrubbed vigorously clean. When you blink towards them, you can see the silhouette of Hange's frustrated hands flying high into the air. You're leaning back in the chair, tipping it with the heel of your boot pressed against the table's edge with a laugh.

“Oh, c'mon! Stop being such a tease and tell me about it already. It’s just a necklace!”

“That doesn't sound right,” you tease, grinning ear to ear as you absently roll the gemstone between your fingers. “If it's just a necklace, then how come you wanna know about it so bad, huh?”

Hange groans in the pale torch light, sliding down into their seat in dramatized agony. “Be-cause I just watched a five-meter titan almost snap the damn thing in half."

“So?”

“So! I saw how fast you sliced that thing up! You went totally berserk, like you had a personal vendetta.”

You chuckle low, burying your chin in the mouth of the emerald green cape around your shoulders.

“Five-meter titans should learn not to touch my stuff, then.”

“Hey, shitheads.”

Except that last part is something you hear with your own two ears, now, in the present.

A deep voice unlike yours or Hange’s.

Your heart skips a beat. You turn your chin to acknowledge it.

Levi Ackerman stands in the door frame dressed with a similar green cloak you wore in your vision. He’s wearing the same Scout uniform as Hange, but with a pressed white shirt and a flare of his own cravat nestled at the neck. His black hair falls over his eyes, shoulder pressed into the door frame, but he doesn’t look at you.

His eyes land directly on an all-too giddy Hange.

“So much for telling me that you arrived,” he mumbles.

Hange gives him a one-shoulder shrug. “Oh, you know I couldn’t help but find her for myself. The Commander caught me up to speed in a letter.”

“I would argue that that sort of information should remain out of letters, don’t you?” Levi asks as he nudges a boot into the room to join the conversation.

“Too late for that!” Hange sing-songs, pulling you into their side. “We were just catching up.”

Levi’s brow raises by a centimeter on his forehead. “...catching up.”

“Yep! It seems like I’m top of the team leaderboard for most memories. Amazing what happens when you try to work with victims of memory loss.”

It feels like a direct jab to Levi’s effort — or lack thereof — but he doesn’t react to it.

Not yet, anyway.

Because a whole world of awkwardness comes to a head when his eyes flicker to your face, then down, and stop.

Hange says nothing, but you feel it — their hand curled around your arm grips tighter.

Your chin drops to see what he’s staring at:

The necklace between your fingers.

When you stare back up, you’re certain Captain Levi has changed an entire shade of pale.

“—anyways!”

Hange’s voice cuts through the heavy silence as they squeeze you one last time into their side before letting go.

“I gotta go check in with the Commander. You two have fun catching up, alright?”

They pass with a bounce in their step, but not before stopping at the captain to all-too-whimsically point out the obvious.

“Look, Levi, she’s cleaning!”

He doesn’t have a snarky comeback this time.

Hell, he doesn’t even say goodbye to Hange when they exit, leaving the two of you to a room full of uncomfortable air.

If you so much as breathe in longer than a second, then it threatens to suffocate you.

Three whole months of nothing, and now?

There’s no excuse.

“You missed a spot,” he finally tells you, gesturing to the back left corner.

“Huh?” you mumble, turning to observe. “I haven't gotten to that part yet.”

“Sure.”

That’s all he had to say?

This was the big reunion everyone waited for?

Subconsciously your other hand raises to your necklace in order to tuck the jewelry into your gray button-up.

“You never visited me a second time.”

“I did,” he corrects, and your eyes narrow.

“I never saw you.”

“You were asleep.”

Your stomach flutters with butterflies. “Wait, really?”

“Do you think I care enough to lie?” When you blink twice from how biting his tone is, he sighs to himself. “Yeah, I visited.”

Although you probably shouldn't believe him, you do. The sigh is as much of a surprise as his confession. Like he's resigned to chip a part of the wall he builds between you.

So you speak with honesty, too. “I’m sorry I missed you, then.”

His brow twitches.

“Why?”

“Because contrary to the nature of our first encounter, I’ve wanted to speak to you.”

At first he says nothing, opting to merely study your expression. You try to remain confident, chin up and expectant.

“Did you remember something?” he asks.

“Yeah." He doesn't react. "I have been remembering bits and pieces, but…”

You venture to a chair to your left at the newly-cleaned table, sitting with a short huff. It feels nice to get off of your feet.

“...that’s all they are. Bits and pieces to bigger outlines, bigger pictures, that I don’t have."

"Sorry to hear that," he tells you, evidently not sorry at all.

Your brows furrow as you lean forward, taking the time to really look at the shorter man this time. "Except something weird happens every time I talk to someone. Specifically Commander Erwin."

"Which is?"

"The commander is pretty hellbent on mentioning your name every time we have a conversation."

Levi’s stare hardens. “Right.”

"In fact, Hange just now mentioned you.” You pause. “Aren't you curious about what they say?"

"No."

The word leaves his mouth too fast. You realize instantly that it's a lie. You press on.

"They tell me that you know me."

He scoffs. "I already told you that, dumbass."

"No you didn't."

"I did," he argues. "In Trost."

"Your twenty-question crusade three months ago is not the same as just telling me how I know you," you snap right back. "This isn't some acquaintanceship. They act like I know you incredibly well. Better than I'm supposed to know Hange or Petra or Erwin. And they all refuse to talk for you."

“As the shitheads should.”

This conversation is running in circles and getting nowhere.

Whereas Levi sticks to his conviction, your shoulders deflate.

"Captain..." You begin to stand, voice softening. “Captain, I want to—”

“Excuse me,” he abruptly states, turning on his heel to walk to the hallway.

By the time you stand at full height to follow after him, he’s already shut the door behind him.

“Hange.”

Their name is acidic on the tip of his tongue on purpose.

This isn’t a game.

Hange knows, too, because they take their fine fucking time walking down the hallway. Like — if the way they turn on a heel with a pursed smile is any indicator — that they already knew the conversation in that room with you would be short.

Levi can feel his blood boiling well over its limit. His hands are itchy, like they need to be doing something, so he digs half-crescent moons into his palms instead.

Hard, so it hurts.

Pain is one hell of a drug.

“Levi!” they call, feigning ignorance. “How was your talk with—”

“You kept it.”

It, because Levi knows he doesn’t need to elaborate on what exactly they’ve done. Over and over the scene replays in his head: the turn of your chin, your torso, with the glitter of silver in the afternoon sun just between your fingers at the collar of your shirt.

“I don’t know what you mean,” they sing-song, and Levi’s nostrils flare.

“You know damn well what I mean.”

“Oh — what, are you referring to the Lieutenant’s necklace?”

The first card is on the table in full show, and Levi’s all-too certain Hange believes they have a winning hand.

The white cravat at his neck threatens to choke him out when he swallows, maintaining a mere shred of his nonchalance.

“Of course I kept it, silly," they add.

“Why?”

“Even I knew how important it was to her.”

The sentence turns his tongue to lead.

Important.

“When did you take it?” he chooses to ask, pushing through the strain on his vocal chords.

“Before the doctors prepped for surgery, duh. Why? What’s so important about that stupid thing to you anyway?” Then they grin, and Levi knows he’s in deep shit. “Care to finally elab-or-ate?”

Each syllable is annunciated with such sickening clairvoyance that he instinctually turns the other way, opposite of the mess space.

Away.

Away, away, away—

“Oh, come on, Levi!”

“Not now, Four Eyes.”

“But we just started getting to the bottom of this mystery!”

Too late. Hange’s lanky ass legs get the better of him. They outpace his stalking and eliminate the distance he’d been trying to clear.

For someone notorious for ending fights, he sure didn’t know why he started this one. Levi doesn’t want to be a part of this experiment, this thing, where they treat you like a fragile baby bird waiting for the moment you’re strong enough to fly on your own.

It’s insulting.

You were — are — more than that.

“There is no mystery,” Levi sours.

“Oh, please,” Hange groans. “I may not have perfect vision, but I’m not blind. You looked like you witnessed a titan trying to learn how to tap dance.”

“Fuck off.”

“Y’know, you’re going to have to tell her eventually before someone else does.”

So they did have a winning hand.

Levi abruptly stops walking to finally face the taller person. Hange’s tone remains in a sing-song, but their smile all but disappears.

“Excuse me?”

“We all knew her, Levi. We know her,” Hange corrects. “Perhaps not as well as you, but things are going to start slipping out.”

“Not if you keep your damn mouth shut.”

“Why?” they challenge, crossing their arms over their chest. “I’d actually quite like my friend to fully remember me someday.”

“They won’t be honest memories, then,” Levi argues. “Just whatever shit you put in her head so you feel better about it.”

“What a pessimistic way of looking at it.”

“It’s our reality.”

Hange sighs in that way that Levi hates: saddened, like they know something he doesn’t.

He’s heard it countless times before the scientist made a devastating, truth-shattering discovery.

“Then I suppose you don’t want to hear that it helped.”

Levi turns into stone.

Hange pretends to be interested in the cuticles of their nails, tone light and airy. “Oh, didn't you ask? Or are you still pretending she’s a tree with legs in HQ’s yard?”

“You’re lying.”

“Now that’s just hurtful.” The smile returns. “Look, Levi: the minute she took a look at that necklace in the box, it was like she came back to us. Even if just for a moment, I swear, it was her. I’m no cranial injury genius, but I like to think that the more she interacts with things that are important to her, the more memories it may trigger.”

The sharp pain in his palm returns.

Had he been holding that fist this entire time?

Things that are important to her.

Even without its origins spelled out, the necklace meant something to you. You wore it under your uniform just as you always had before the accident. Close to the chest, its meaning hidden from most of the world.

Maybe Pyxis has the right idea to drink on the job, because Levi’s one more bad day from breaking open a cork just to taste something a little more bitter than what fate’s allowed.

(What memories came back to you?)

He could ask.

He could play stupid just to see if Hange’s telling the truth.

He’d rather get swallowed whole, but it’s better than turning around and asking you.

“What did she remember?”

Hange, thrilled that he’s taken the bait, leans in to keep the conversation private.

“She told me that the silver necklace came with her from the Underground.” Oh. “She’s had it since she was a kid.” Oh, shit. “Said it was the only thing she’s ever owned.” Shitting shit. “Sounds like the exact same story she told me when Erwin made her a Scout — the whole fend-for-yourself mentality, the crappy childhood, blah-blah-blah. We don’t need to dive back into all of that.”

No, he doesn’t.

What he needs is to take a breath, but his lungs stopped working twenty words ago.

Hange is waiting for the gotcha right on the tip of their tongue, a years’ long question in the making, but he refuses.

Can’t — because those are your secrets to tell, not his.

“Is that it?” He asks, feigning neutrality.

“You sort of interrupted the epiphany,” Hange grins, “but yeah. That’s all. Nothing’s stopping you from turning around and hearing it for yourself, you know. I’m sure it’ll make you feel a hell of a lot less crummy if you do.”

Yeah, it probably would.

Because your memory’s coming back, with or without him.

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has sent me anons about this story! I'm having so much fun writing it. I appreciate your likes and notes xo.

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