This is like one of those romance novels where people bond over accidentally writing each other emails but better.
Like Pride and Prejudice but instead of the love interest getting dissed for his toxicity and then reforming, it’s just two people bonding over dissing a dead toxic asshole.
There’s something cathartic about watching Megumi simply overpower his way through an ambush, especially since he is a character who before this has always held back his strength. However, if you haven’t noticed it a lot of the things Megumi has said and done so far this arc had big red warning flags reading “DANGER, DANGER” attached to it. The killing game itself has been a bad influence on Megumi so far, and it’s probably only going to get worse from here. More under the Cut.
Summary: Paradis has opened its doors to the world, and the Rumbling has not yet occurred. The military board insists, "We need more Ackermans!" to avoid ruining Mikasa's life. Levi agrees. Arranged marriage, explicit consent, Omegaverse. Alpha! Levi x Omega! Y/N. Mentions of underage marriage but it doesn't happen, the reader is over 21. Age gap but they are both adults.(I would say enemys to lover but they don't even know eachother to be enemys lol.)
Warnings: Omegaverse, age gap, arrangemarriage.
Ao3 link to the whole work.
Masterlist with all the chapters
Period of time? Unknown. Exact hour? No clue.
The space and time he found himself in was a very particular one: too late to know you’re losing valuable sleep, and too early to actually wake up.
In situations like this, everything seemed to linger in an extra uncomfortable area. The sleeping bag was too itchy and too hot. Everything was too hot, actually. Levi felt like he had been boiling in his own skin, wishing he could peel it off and purge it entirely. The sounds of wild animals at night annoyed him—sounds that, on other occasions, might have awakened a sense of nostalgia that never truly existed. A longing for a memory in nature, built entirely from fictional expectations rather than real experience.
‘Too loud,’ he thought.
Too loud, too tight, too hot. Everything clung.
His head turned to the left, and he observed her sleeping peacefully. Her messy hair spread over the sleeping bag’s cover, which had been turned into an improvised pillow with some of her clothes stuffed inside. Back in his tent, he felt both happy and annoyed at the same time. Happy that the silly cold war was over; annoyed because during the one or two nights he had slept alone in his tent, he’d been able to sleep almost naked and fight June’s weather with less grace but far better results.
“Ugh, fuck it,” he muttered, lifting himself slightly to pull off the pants that felt like a medieval torture machine. Nothing had ever felt more freeing. One or two minutes of pure, cold bliss. Before everything began warming against his skin again.
Why was he awake? He blamed the heat, but anyone would know he simply had too much in his head.
Suddenly, he groaned.
Two paws pressed against his lower belly, and the cat seemed to weigh as much as the Colossal Titan. Four legs followed, the animal bumping its head against Levi’s and purring contentedly. Then, as if it weren’t already boiling hot inside the tent, the pet decided to tuck both pairs of legs underneath itself and settle right on top of Levi’s chest.
He couldn’t bring himself to push it away. The closed eyes, the steady purr of contentment. It was oddly satisfying. The rhythmical vibration, the peaceful expression that almost looked like a smile.
“I’m trying to sleep here,” Levi complained, as if blaming the animal for his wakefulness would make any difference.
The cat lifted its head, bumped his again, then curled closer to the alpha’s neck and kept purring. ‘I know. I’m helping,’ it seemed to say telepathically. Levi stayed motionless as the subtle, continuous vibration lulled his eyelids into heaviness.
His attention was stolen by a couple organizing bottles on the top shelves. The dark-chocolate-haired man laughed as she failed to reach the spot to put the whiskey back. She pouted in mock anger as they enjoyed their little corner of happiness in that wretched place. Her hand lifted to pinch his arm playfully, and the simple ring on her ring finger shone brightly. It was stupid how eye-catching it was, even in the dim light.
“Levi… are you even listening to me?” Farlan spoke from the other side of the table.
The truth was that the ring was simple, probably cheap, made of no particularly valuable metal. It wasn’t extravagant at all. It just was to him.
“You know… we could go to another pub,” the greyish-haired young man added, only to follow it with a sassy remark. “I mean, if it affects you that much.”
Levi let his full weight sink into the back of the chair, casually throwing one arm over it as he raised the glass to his lips and clicked his tongue. “Don’t be stupid. Why would it affect me?”
The blond stared at him silently, unmoving, as if waiting for the alpha to notice that his façade of nonchalance was about as convincing as a kid walking with both arms extended and eyes closed, pretending to be a mummy.
‘Why would it affect me? She only went and got engaged in a couple of months, with some guy, and started a damn pub. Just like we once talked about.’
“Let’s carry on and think of a place where we could train with the new equipment we got,” Levi muttered.
Seeing Farlan roll his eyes and laugh annoyed him. “How many times do I have to tell you that it was a mutual split?”
“Whatever allows you to sleep at night,” the blond replied between chuckles.
With consciousness, he might have noticed that he couldn’t recall their faces—any of them, really. Faceless people his mind accepted without question, placeholders standing in for who they were supposed to be.
‘It’s alright. We have different dreams,’ he had convinced himself, back when they’d finally gotten their hands on the 3DMG. Back when it felt like learning to fly would be enough to bring them one step closer to the surface.
“You know… it’s probably wrong of me to say this, but my sister wouldn’t say no if one day you invited her for a drink or two.”
The underground’s scratched glass and damp walls dissolved, melting into the steady stone of Trost’s military facilities. The edges of the memory blurred. People moved slowly, voices reaching him without faces attached, his mind knew what was being said, even if his eyes couldn’t supply the details.
Some old training friend of Erwin’s suggested it. The blond had chuckled, nervous.
“I appreciate it, but… I’m too focused on the cause.”
“Geez, Erwin…” Levi didn’t remember interrupting, only the murmurs around him. “Did you hear? Marie’s pregnant again.”
Who is Marie? Back then, he’d been too new to the circle to place the name.
“I’m happy for her. She always wanted a big family.”
“Be honest, man… don’t you regret it sometimes?”
The conversation circled him without ever pulling him in. Levi observed from the outside, admiring the other Alpha’s unwavering devotion.
‘No regrets.’
That was what they had bonded over.
As time went on, Levi couldn’t tell whether Erwin was losing the plot, or finally revealing his true colours. The way he smiled when they discovered Titans were once human. The way he insisted on the Wall Maria expedition even after losing an arm. The way he broke down at the thought of dying without seeing what was in the basement.
“I can’t,” Hange muttered.
The building felt like a mausoleum after their return. Not just for Erwin and Moblit, but for the Survey Corps itself. They’d never been many, but returning with barely fifteen left made the silence unbearable, gnawing at the walls.
“Come on, Hange. We need to hold a meeting. Those are in the commander’s office.” His voice came out softer than intended. Maybe because he’d realized his only surviving friend needed whatever care he could still offer.
“I can’t go in there. I can’t move my things… that’s Erwin’s space.” The bandages still covered one eye, not yet healed. The new commander’s gaze unfocused. “I don’t even know how to run these stupid meetings. Why did Erwin think this was a good idea? I never wanted this.”
A hand covered their face, but Levi felt it — the held-back resentment in their remaining dark eye, directed at him. Held back because, deep down, the scientist didn’t want to feel it, yet part of them blamed Levi for making another choice.
“Fine,” Levi said, pushing himself off the wall. “I’ll do it. I’ve cleaned your room before. I’ll do it again.”
Filling boxes, dividing things between what was still useful for the military, donations, and items Erwin’s family might want, even after years without contact. As the books were removed from the shelves, something shifted. Hidden among the endless pages.
Levi braced a hand against his thigh as he bent down, his body still aching, and picked up an envelope.
Marie.
Written on the front.
He turned it over a few times. No address. No real intention of sending it — surely. The creases in the paper showed it had been opened and closed many times, probably reread over and over.
‘I shouldn’t,’ he thought…and did anyway.
Do you regret it?
Levi scoffed, raising a hand to his temple and pressing hard. If the man who led all of this had doubts, had missed the untaken path… what was left for the rest of them?
A bitter chuckle escaped him. “This was all a hell of a lot easier when we could just blindly follow you, you idiot.”
She showed up to the funeral (held after Levi brought the body back) with the three little girls in tow. She hugged Hange like an old friend, though the brunette barely reciprocated, and then caressed Levi’s arm with the gentle care only a mother could give. Nile came too, looking more affected than Levi had expected.
“Thank you, Levi.” He never thought he’d hear that from Nile.
Levi never mentioned the letter. But it lingered in his mind as his eyes drifted back to the family, again and again.
“A tea shop?” Her head tilted in cute confusion. “Isn’t that too calm for you?”
The heat of the fire and its light irritated him.
“I wanted that.”
I wanted that.
I wanted that.
The heat was unbearable.
His eyes blinked repeatedly, trying to adjust as the corners stuck together with dried boogers. “Fuck.” He jolted upright, reaching for his uniform. The cat protested and sprang away like it had springs in its paws.
Dawn was breaking. Even this early, the air was thick with humidity. The promise a brutal day. He’d fallen asleep. Deeply. Unusually so.
He pushed the tent flap open and shoved his boots on, feet outside while the rest of his body stayed in. He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back, hating how everything clung with sweat.
“Mmmh.” Her groan echoed as she rolled onto her side, away from the light. The cat walked along her like a tightrope before curling up on top of her head.
Levi froze, gray eyes fixed on the back of her neck. The humiliating memory of arriving drunk at his office resurfaced. The same feeling lingering now, though different somehow.
Without thinking, he shook her shoulder.
“Y/N, wake up.”
After several attempts, she groaned loudly. “What? What’s going on?” She propped herself up on her elbows, eyes barely opening.
“I’m leaving.”
Her yawn was deep and visible. “Leaving? Where? Did something happen?” She rubbed her eyes, and his attention caught on the subtle shine of her ring. Her hair was a mess, her mouth sluggish as she swallowed sleep. Her dress had slipped off one shoulder, exposing her collarbone and part of her chest.
His gaze stayed fixed, expression stoic. She blinked a few times before looking back at him — one eye half-lidded, the other still closed.
“No. Nothing happened,” he muttered. “I’m just leaving for work.”
She sat cross-legged, arms resting between her knees, still half asleep. “…Okay?” Her confusion was unfiltered. “You leave for work every day. Why wake me up?”
He looked away, breaking the scrutiny, staring outside. The pause drew her attention.
“Levi?”
“I just didn’t want you to wake up and wonder where I was.”
It made no sense to her. Levi had come and gone for work while she slept for nearly two months of marriage without ever saying goodbye, something she’d even mentioned while talking with the girls in Trost. Even the first morning, she’d woken alone, hours passing before she knew where he’d gone.
To his surprise, her hand caught his shoulder, turning him back. A soft, almost nonexistent kiss brushed his left cheek. Maybe not even a real kiss, cheek against cheek.
“Have a good day at work,” she murmured.
By the time it registered, she was already lying back down, drifting off again.
-
The landscape changed just enough to remind them they were moving, but not enough to make the journey feel like progress. Endless stretches of flattened grass. Mud swallowing boot soles. Wheels from the supply carts carving the same tired tracks deeper and deeper into the earth. The same jokes repeated. The same complaints about rations. The same low morale that no one wanted to acknowledge out loud.
And the heat.
It wasn’t the honest, dry heat of a clear summer day.
It was thick. Wet. Personal.
The kind that sat on skin like a second layer, crawling under clothes, settling in joints, making tempers shorter and movements slower. Even breathing felt heavier, like pulling air through soaked fabric.
By midday, shirts clung to backs. Hair stuck to necks. Leather straps rubbed skin raw where sweat softened it. The horses foamed faster. The whole formation’s thunder started to sound like cattle. More than once, the omega has enclosed herself in the cart as not only the heat was unbearable but so alphas' stink.
As the situation became harder and harder to resist, a cold cloth rested against her forehead and neck.
“It’s the atmospheric pressure. It’s dropping,” Levi said, steady and matter-of-fact, as he tended to her. This time, not out of fear, but out of real physical necessity. Her blood pressure was collapsing, her body protesting violently against conditions it was never meant to endure.
Meanwhile, he remained unperturbed, aside from occasionally swiping sweat from his neck and forehead, his gaze fixed on the sky with quiet, simmering anger.
Her legs were propped up against a tree trunk while she watched him upside down — Levi’s back broad and steady in her vision. The muscles in his shoulders flexed and shifted, his forearms tightening as he rolled his sleeves higher, trying to fight the weather at least a little. It was quite the spectacle.
Her cheeks flushed, and not only because of the summer heat.
“Are you alright?” she asked, her body still feeling like jelly.
“Yeah. Worry about yourself.”
“Tch.” She clicked her tongue. ‘Damn you alphas and your physical endurance. Why do your bodies never have to suffer anything? I’m dying over here.’
“Stew… again?” she asked, each word carrying the faint weight of her last hopes. “I feel like I have stew coming out of my ears.”
“Don’t be spoiled. Eat it.” Levi barely turned his head, just a half inch over his left shoulder to look at her, while his hands kept busy—cutting potatoes without a board, his blade scraping against his palm with practiced ease, and dropping them one by one into the pot of boiling water where the rest of the ingredients were already swimming.
“I can’t keep eating stew… I feel like I don’t want to eat at all. Is there nothing else?”
“I could make rice.”
She frowned, her nose wrinkling slightly. “But that would just be… stew without all the rest.”
“Well, it’s still not stew,” the captain pointed out, as if that small difference carried any real meaning.
She sighed in defeat, rolling her head to the side as the headache was killing her. “You know… this is not very romantic. Not what I imagined our dinners as a freshly married couple would be like.”
Levi didn’t indulge her melancholia. “I think it is. Who the hell do you think hunted the rabbit for yesterday’s stew?”
Her expression froze as the words sank in. “THAT WAS A RABBIT?!” she shrieked, recoiling in her seat as if the memory of her previous meal suddenly turned in her stomach. “I thought it was the meat we brought in our rations!”
“We’ve been travelling for an entire week. No rationed meat would survive this heat.” His tone made it sound almost insulting that she had to ask.
“When I asked you what was in it, you could’ve mentioned the rabbit!”
“For what? So you’d get sentimental and refuse to eat it? Nah.”
Her brows knitted together as her voice lowered into a wounded accusation. “You’re my husband! You’re not supposed to lie to me.”
Levi finally turned fully, a wooden spoon in his right hand and the other resting against his hipbone, the steam from the pot curling around his shoulders. “When we swore in front of the civil court and the church, what did you swear to do?”
The question caught her completely off guard, shifting her tone and expression in a heartbeat. Her eyes wandered to the flying insects circling the dim lantern light, as if they might hold the answer. “Love, to cherish… and to obey,” she murmured under her breath, almost ashamed to say it aloud. Her cheeks warmed to a subtle shade of pink—she hadn’t expected him to turn the night into a cross-examination.
“Well,” Levi said flatly, completely unfazed by the tension he’d stirred up, “I swore to protect and provide. You’re protected, and you’re provided for. Being honest wasn’t in the contract.”
Her deadpan glare came quickly, though her blush faded even faster. “How generous of you,” she muttered, the sarcasm so thick it could’ve left sticky drops on the grass between them. But then she raised her voice again, a sudden frustration bubbling through: “Why did I have to swear to obey, and you didn’t?! That’s not fair!”
Levi gave a dry, amused scoff and turned back to the pot, stirring lazily as the smell of boiled herbs filled the night air. “Not my fault being an omega in this society sucks,” he said. “I don’t know—vote against that law in parliament.”
“I cannot vote! I’m an omega!” she snapped, more offended by the suggestion than the law itself.
“Well, I don’t know—overthrow the government, kill a couple of MPs, change the law,” he listed matter-of-factly, as if it were no more difficult than baking bread. “It worked for us.”
She raised one eyebrow slowly. “Did it, though? You’re in the middle of nowhere, going somewhere you don’t want to go, stuck with me and your pitiful salary.”
The alpha slowly turned his head again, squinting at her through the rising steam. “Shut up and eat,”
One
Two
During dinner, Levi’s gaze drifted upward once again, tracing the sky with a faint hint of disdain, as if he were reading something in its heavy clouds.
Three
Four
“Oh, thank God,” she whispered, tilting her head back, letting her face drink in the sky, savoring each subtle shift.
Nearby, the brook murmured along its bed, clear and still, but tiny, circular ripples began to scatter across its surface. The heat of the day lingered, and where warm air met cooler water, thin wisps of mist began to rise. Birds in the trees shuffled nervously, seeking shelter among the branches.
The drops were big, typical of a summer rain.
The little tears slide down the leaves, the horses squeaked, one playful drop slide down her neck make her chuckle. The night turned darker as the heavy clouds covered the moon. The scent of wet earth and herbs from the stew mingled, grounding the moment in a quiet, intimate relief.
She tilted her face up again, eyes closed, letting the night sky and the soft, uneven rain touch her cheeks. Each droplet provided soft relief, glittering like tiny jewels before sinking into her hair and clothes.
“Don’t you love the rain?”
Levi squinted as the quietness of the first drops brought memories he didn’t care to relive. “No,” he said simply, his voice low.
The rain began almost imperceptibly at first. Soft, scattered taps on the leaves and the roof of the tent. Almost a lullaby.
“!!”
Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up immediately as the cat tried to hide in the sleeping bag. Galloping against her chest, her heart fought to steady itself, her ears still ringing from a thunderclap that had pierced the sky.
“W-what was that?”
The wind outside tore through the night, and the poor tent seemed to struggle with the absurd task of staying upright.
“Great. You’re awake,” Levi said, glancing at her. The tent flaps slapped against each other as he bent over to pull on his boots.
“We’re going to secure the horses,” he said, tightening the laces. He gestured toward the entrance. “If water gets in, take the things out and put them in the cart. Keep them dry.”
“Bu—”
Before she could protest, he was already gone. Her pupils struggled to adjust to the dim night, lips parted as she tried to process what was happening.
A moment later, he appeared again, peeking into the tent, his hair already dripping wet.
“I’m coming back for you,” he said, voice sharp. “Do NOT move. Except to the carts. You hear me? I mean it this time.”
This time, she obeyed. Mostly because she had no intention of getting lost in the forest while the sky was practically falling on them. She was extra careful performing the task he had put her in charge of when the water started sneaking inside. She sat on the edge of one of the carts with their belongings piled beside her, the cat hiding inside her desk.
“Shhh, baby. Behave,” she murmured, rocking the cat, as if the animal could understand why they were in this situation, and why it couldn’t just walk away to a safe place.
‘Well… at least now he’s letting me take care of something.’ The thought wasn’t as mood-lifting as she had expected.
As the camp came alive despite it being the middle of the night, she knew her partner would return soon. She scanned faces in the dark until one finally looked like him. She stayed exactly where she was.
When he reached her side, he seemed rushed. He climbed into the cart and rummaged through their belongings — the ones she had secured.
“Where did you put my—” He cut himself off mid-sentence. “Never mind.”
Her attention never left him. “Levi,” she called as he started putting on his gear with urgency, already looking ready to leave. “Levi, what’s going on?”
“You go in the cart. Don’t worry.”
‘Great. Here we go again.’ She frowned. “You’re leaving now?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t it dangerous under this storm?”
“No.”
“What do I do? How are we going to ride in this weather?”
“Told you. You go in the cart.”
“B—”
“Get ready. We are leaving.”
“What did we talk about? You explaining the situations to me?” she snapped, frustration bleeding into her scent and reaching him, forcing his cascade of actions to stop. He turned around, one hand still gripping the clip of the harness in front of his chest.
“Don’t use that on me,” he warned. The charged atmosphere didn’t sit well with his most primitive instincts. “I don’t even let my alpha comrades assert demands.”
To his surprise, she didn’t back down. The combination of her frown, the bitter scent, and the rocking of the “baby”, the cat, in her arms was bizarre. And somehow oddly natural.
“Then explain it to me,” she said, steady. “So I don’t have to go around demanding it.”
Everything in his expression showed he was grudgingly giving in.
“I’ll go first with most of the horses to see if we can secure a path that isn’t flooded for the carts,” he said. “The carts will move, but probably extremely slow because of the weather. You go in the cart with Armin.”
It sounded like a rushed summary someone gives you right before a test. Trying to condense as much information as possible into something simple.
“Happy now?”
“Very.”
“Glad.”
They stared at each other with almost no sympathy, both words spat with mutual disdain.
But her attitude shifted quickly when she processed what he had actually said.
He kept muttering under his breath like an angry mother cleaning a house, not noticing her expression change as he continued preparing.
“Do you realize my job involves very confidential information, right? I can’t go around explaining every damn thing to you, Y/N.”
And he kept going.
“So when I tell you to do something, just do it. Don’t argue with me, ‘cause—”
“So… that means we part ways?” Fear slipped into her voice as she glanced back at the formation preparing behind them.
“Huh?”
“You won’t be riding next to my cart.” She swallowed. “I’ll be alone.”
“With Armin,” he corrected.
‘Armin is sweet, but not exactly who I’d pick to feel protected…‘
It was her turn to grudgingly accept. “Alright,” she muttered, eyes lowered.
“Don’t be a pain in the ass.” Despite the wording, his tone was almost gentle, for him. “How many times do I have to tell you? If I say it’s safe, it’s safe.”
‘Well, aren’t you a fucking liar?’ his own mind snapped back at him. He shoved the thought away. He didn’t have time or room to hesitate.
“Alright,” she repeated, this time with a spark of conviction.
“I’m off,” he said, already placing one foot in the stirrup.
“Wait.”
“What now?” he said, already out of patience — only for her to lean forward and press another soft peck to his cheek.
“See you later…”
—
“You seem particularly quiet today,” Armin said later. Despite the weather, she had insisted on sitting at the front of the cart with him, arms folded, anger written clearly across her face. “Everything alright?” he added with a small smile.
“Yeah. Why do you ask?”
A deadly stare from the corner of her eye, teeth clenched.
The blond tried to smile, but only one side of his lips lifted, forming an awkward, conflicted grimace.
“Well… I’m not an alpha,” he said carefully, “but I can smell something is wrong… metaphorically speaking.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she spit.
The cart creaked and swayed as the wheels struggled through mud that sucked at the wood with every turn. What previously had been an endless canvas of distant forest and beige open meadows, had now turned into grey mess. They could hardly see much ahead and sometimes keeping eyes open was hard not only because of the water but because of the lack of sleep.
Water streamed down the sides, dripping steadily from the edges of the cover. Wind shoved against them in uneven bursts, making the cart shudder and forcing Armin to tighten his grip on the reins.
The horses snorted nervously, ears pinned back as thunder rolled again across the sky, louder this time, closer.
Progress was slow. Painfully slow.
The world beyond a few meters was just sheets of rain and flashes of white light.
Beside him, she sat stiff and silent, staring ahead through the downpour, jaw set, hands clenched in her sleeves as the cart lurched forward through the storm.
“You know, rainy days used to be the worst when Titans were still around,” Armin said, raising his voice slightly over the steady drumming of rain against the canvas cover.
The distance they would travel wouldn’t be much, not only because of the multiple turns they had to make to avoid getting stuck in mud, but also because the horses weren’t performing miracles under these conditions. Every meter they gained, following the signals from the riders ahead, was painfully slow. The cart wheels groaned through wet earth, jolting every few seconds as they hit hidden stones or deeper patches of sludge.
“Really?” she asked. And, as the strategist he was, it worked. Her interest was quick to peak.
Armin nodded, water dripping from the edge of his hood. “We couldn’t see the colour signals. Most sections ended up completely cut off — no communication, no warning. Just… whatever showed up in front of you.”
“That sounds awful,” she muttered, trying to even fathom the idea. Her fingers absentmindedly tightened in the cat that was inside her clothes as a kangaroo, grounding herself in something warm and alive.
“Yeah. It was.” He said it simply, without lingering in the weight of the memory. The cart lurched again, forcing him to adjust the reins. “So even if this seems chaotic… believe me, we’ve been through worse.”
Armin had always been extremely gentle with her, and she couldn’t help the small pull of sympathy in her chest. “Thank you, Armin. But I’m not worried about that…”
Her words lingered at the edge of silence before her anger resurfaced, sharper now, steadier. “He pisses me off. I don’t understand him.”
“Who?” Armin glanced to his right briefly before focusing back on the narrow, flooded path. “Captain Levi?” Before she could even reply, he sighed. “To be fair… I don’t think anyone does.”
The old habit of playing with her ring hadn’t disappeared once it finally fit her properly. If anything, it had rooted itself deeper; a nervous tick she couldn’t shake. Both hands rested on her lap as her thumb rolled the band back and forth.
“I shouldn’t be talking about this,” she murmured, the words more a reprimand to herself than to him. Years of ‘marital problems stay inside the marriage’ echoed in her head in her mother’s voice.
“It’s not like we have anything better to do,” Armin scoffed lightly, though his grip on the reins stayed steady and careful.
“It’s… alpha-omega things.” She shook her head slowly, as if explaining it to a beta felt almost pointless. Or maybe just unfair.
Armin pressed his lips together. He didn’t look convinced to let it drop. The side profile of the distracted omega; soaked, exhausted, still trying to hold herself together. It stirred a strange sense of camaraderie in him. One he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.
“You know… I defended you after the Trost incident,” he said finally. “And I decided to step in and help you at the wall.” He added, quieter, remembering how things had actually unfolded, “Not that it helped much, but…”
“Yeah?” Y/N frowned slightly, confused about where this was going. It was true; out of all the cadets, she had felt closest to him. But she’d never thought there was anything deeper behind it.
“My mom was an omega.”
“Ah.” She exhaled, more confused than sympathetic. “That’s… sweet.” It came out as polite reflex more than anything else.
“My dad was a beta.”
Oh.
“And when I was little, I showed a lot of signs of presenting as an omega.”
“Male omegas are very rare,” she said quietly, stating the obvious more than questioning it.
“Yes.” Armin swallowed, rainwater running down the bridge of his piggy nose. “But I don’t think there’s a better way to explain how I felt after I didn’t present… other than saying that suddenly, I was seen.”
He adjusted the reins again as one of the horses stumbled slightly, the cart rocking hard enough to make the lantern inside swing.
“Before that, the doubt clouded how people saw me. I could never just react — I could only overreact. I could never be angry, only hysterical.” With each statement, he stole a quick glance at her. “When I spoke up, it was because I spoke up. When I stayed quiet, it was because I chose to.”
With the raw, worn-down anger of someone who had swallowed it for years, he said, “And when I lost the chance to present… it all disappeared. Suddenly, what I wanted and what I had to say mattered.”
Silence settled between them, short but heavy. The rain hammered against the cart’s wooden sides, and somewhere ahead, a horse whinnied in protest against the wind.
The blond exhaled, tired and exasperated, while she pressed her lips together, knowing exactly what he meant and knowing, painfully, that only one of them had been allowed to benefit from that shift.
“What I’m trying to say is…” He adjusted his grip on the reins. “I feel you.”
A small, defeated but genuine smile appeared on her rain-soaked face. Her left hand reached for his and gave it a soft squeeze. “Thank you.”
Neither of them knew how to move forward from that moment. Neither wanted to break it. Neither quite knew how to hold something that emotionally heavy without dropping it.
“So…” she said after a second, clearing her throat, “does that explain why you like that alpha girl?”
His nervous laugh was almost swallowed by the rain and the strained snorts of the horses. With flushed cheeks, the cadet looked away.
“Maybe,” he admitted, voice barely louder than the storm. “But… don’t tell Eren about it. They’re not on good terms.”
She shrugged, a small scoff escaping her. “Don’t worry. It’s not like Eren comes to talk to me.”
The shift in her tone made Armin glance at her again. “Eren doesn’t hate you… he’s just…”
Whatever word he was searching for clearly didn’t come easily. “To be honest… I’m not even sure what he likes anymore.”
The shared exasperation that followed needed no words; the eye rolls, the tight lips, the synchronized sighs fogging faintly in the cold air. Even the horses seemed to complain in rhythm with them, hooves sucking wetly out of mud with every step.
‘What is that alpha’s fucking problem,’ practically hung unspoken between them.
“Are you two fighting?” she asked, looking toward him. “Aren’t you childhood friends?”
“No and yes,” he answered immediately, in that order.
The subtle pout pulling at his thick lower lip made him look far more endearing than he probably intended. At least, that’s what she thought.
“He’s… not himself anymore.” Armin swallowed. “He’s drifting away. And every time I try to talk about it, the team tells me to drop it so I don’t upset Mikasa.”
“I see.”
But now that he’d started, he couldn’t stop.
“I understand he’s been through a lot. I mean… a damn lot. We all have. But him the most.” His hands moved as he spoke, careful but restless even while holding the reins. “But lately he says the worst things whenever we try to talk about where the island plan is going.”
The cart jolted violently, and he steadied the horses with a soft command before continuing.
“I… I feel like we don’t have anything in common anymore. Like we’re two strangers held together by history instead of actual friendship.” His jaw tightened. “And don’t get me started on how shitty he’s been to everyone lately.”
Rain streamed down his face, indistinguishable from anything else.
“There are all these new people from the other side of the world that I feel I have more in common with than him.” Armin let out a shaky breath. “Is it insensitive for me to say I miss my friend?”
Eren wasn’t part of her old life, not really. She had little to compare him to. But the situation felt painfully familiar anyway.
“If something happened to Eren… would you be there for him?”
“100%.”
There wasn’t even a flicker of hesitation.
“Then you have your answer,” she said softly, a bittersweet smile tugging at her mouth. “You said you were childhood friends, right? You miss the old Eren… just like Eren probably misses the old you.”
She shifted slightly, pulling the cat closer under her coat as another cold gust hit them.
“Asking someone not to change after ten or twelve years is… kind of pointless.”
He looked down, voice barely audible. “I guess so.”
“You care about him because you shared a path,” she continued gently. “But maybe that path is splitting now.” She shrugged. “Maybe it comes back together someday. Maybe it doesn’t.”
Like a child scared to go into kindergarten, he muttered, “But I don’t want to.”
Her soft chuckle was mostly an attempt to ease the heaviness between them. “That doesn’t mean you two can’t be friends, silly. It just means… maybe you need to loosen the relationship a little so you can build others.”
Shifting slightly toward him, bracing herself as the cart lurched through another patch of mud, she added, more animated this time,
“Think of it like decluttering. You don’t have to throw everything away — but you need space to grow, too.”
“Yeah…” The first one sounded doubtful. But as his head gave a few small, unconscious nods, the second — “Yeah,” — carried a little more conviction.
“If you’re so worried that Eren is going through something,” she continued, pushing wet hair away from her face, “why don’t you talk about it with Levi? He’s your squad leader.”
“Oh, no.” Armin’s answer came instantly, almost horrified. “We do not talk about those things with Captain.”
“Why no—” But halfway through the question, she squinted, then winced in understanding. “Ah… yeah. I think I know why.”
“He tried to comfort us once.” The color seemed to drain from Armin’s face as he stared ahead into the rain. “I have never felt more awkward in my life.”
She slowly tilted her head side to side; not disagreement. Just acceptance.
“But it’s not all bad,” Armin added quickly, almost out of loyalty. “He tried to comfort me once… in his own way.”
“Really? Why? What happened?”
That memory was clearly even less shareable. Armin grimaced, shoulders tensing. There were too many things they had lived through that simply didn’t translate to normal life. Confessing to a civil, who probably saw death as something way less common than they did, that her husband has comforted him after he killed for the first time wasn’t a good approach.
“Anyway,” he said quickly, shifting the reins in his hands, “one time the previous commander told me the Captain is actually very shy—”
“Edward?”
Armin groaned loudly over the rain. “Erwin.”
“Ah, yes… it was something with an E,” she said casually, then shook her head. “Levi doesn’t strike me as shy. He’s very outspoken about what he wants… especially what he doesn’t.” Her eyes rolled dramatically as echoes of his endless orders replayed in her head.
“Well,” Armin chuckled, “he’s not shy in the sense of being afraid to speak. But he’s… very reserved. And he has a hard time communicating.”
That thought seemed to snap something back into place in her mind.
“But that’s the issue!” she burst out. “I am trying.” She paused dramatically, raising both hands toward the stormy sky. “And God knows I am trying to get closer to him. To make it feel more like… a couple.”
“I—”
Her frustration spilled over, raw and unfiltered. “I hear from everyone and their mother that I’m not pregnant because of my own fault. That if my husband doesn’t want me, it’s my fault.” Her jaw tightened. “But I’m the only one asking for kisses. Giving goodbye kisses. And what does he do? Walks away. Does nothing.”
Armin’s eyes widened as far as physically possible. His lips pressed into a thin line. Everything about him screamed: ‘This is too much information.’
“And the tone he used—”
“What did he say?” Armin asked cautiously.
“Well… he said nothing,” she muttered. “But he breathed weird,” she added with renewed intensity. “I’m just saying I wish he would put in effort too.”
Talking about the emotional life of his superior felt like walking straight into a trap that would eventually snap shut on him, but Armin tried diplomacy anyway. “You know… I think Captain Levi and Mikasa are similar in that department. As alphas.”
“Eren used to get so mad whenever Mikasa tried to carry heavy things for him. Or saved food for him.” He added quietly, almost like a footnote, “I mean… they’re both alphas. But we all know who’s the more alpha out of the two.” Then he returned to his point. “What I mean is… maybe the Captain’s effort looks different. Less physical. For example — he used to never cook for the team. And now he cooks for you every day.”
That landed.
The realization visibly hit her, melting some of the defensive tension in her shoulders. “…Now that you mention it…”
“Plus,” Armin continued, gaining confidence, “unlike many higher-ups, Captain is very respectful toward female soldiers and omegas outside work. As a guy, sometimes… it’s nice when the girl takes the first step. So we know we’re not being creeps.”
He hesitated, then added carefully, “Maybe… you could ask him to teach you how to ride. He’s an incredible rider. And it would honestly make our lives easier if you could ride your own horse.”
While the conversation was friendly and easygoing, the trip was quickly becoming unbearable for both. The cart wheels dragged instead of rolled, sucking noises coming from the mud with every forced turn. Water still dripped from the cart canvas in slow, fat drops, each one landing with an annoying, repetitive plop into the puddles below.
Once they reached the final top, both jumped out of the cart with so much pleasure that it could be translated into their expressions. Their knees almost buckled from standing too fast after hours of forced stillness. But the only mood the soldiers in charge of guarding the carts had was exhaustion and tiredness. They had stopped multiple times in the road, as the cart kept getting stuck or the horses got scared.
The storm had ceased but only so little; by each corner of the sky they awaited heavy clouds, and the wind was still blowing heavily. It was clear whatever the weather had under its sleeve was going to carry on for a good while.
‘Ugh… we will never arrive at that damn coast,’ she thought while dragging her feet through the mud and reaching the little secured area they prepared inside a forest, hoping blindly that the gigantic trees would provide a bit of cover from not only the falling water but also the wind — but it felt more like wishful thinking. Her miserable thought wasn’t far off; at this rate they were losing at least two days of distance in a trip where each step mattered.
As usual, her eyes scanned the area with confusion. The cat, now on a leash, walked around shaking its paws with each step. ‘Why is there no camp?’
No fire smell. No cooking smoke. No voices settling down for the night. The cat’s ears twitched violently every time wind pushed through the branches above, tail puffed twice its normal size. Proudly ass displayed.
Levi stepped into her path. “I see you didn’t die.” but, to add to her confusion, he was still with the gear on. The comment was clearly connected to her fear of travelling far from him in the formation.
“Sadly,”
The moodiness wasn’t well received but understood. “Aren’t you the life of the party?”
“Look who is talking,” she said with little to no energy, but to her surprise, Levi handed her a cup of warm tea.
“Drink that and stop complaining.” The metal cup was still hot enough to sting her fingers.
The faint steam that came out of the improvised cup was enough to calm her soul, despite it missing the cream and honey she so liked. “I’m so wet,” she confessed after taking a good sip and moving one soaked hair lock out of her face. “I am literally dripping.”
The alpha, who had not stopped working for a second since her arrival, froze mid-motion and directed her deepest frown at him. “What?” she asked, confused. “It’s true.”
“Don’t say that around other people. Ever. You hear me?” The grave, deep tone he used confused her. Shutting his eyes closed, he muttered while rubbing his forehead like he was trying to erase the last five seconds from existence. “You really choose the worst combination of words,” before clicking his tongue.
‘Everything I do pisses him off.’
The continuous move of the formation forced her mind somewhere else while she resumed her leisure stroll while trying to stretch her legs after hours sitting down. One yawn, then two. “When are we setting the tent?”
“There’s no tent tonight, not with this shitty weather,” he declared.
Somewhere behind them, someone cursed loudly as a cart wheel slipped again.
Her gasp forced him to keep going. “Our horses waited here for a bit as we waited for the carts. Now you and the cart rest here while we try to secure another camp – hopefully, by then the rain will have stopped enough for us to set a tent without it getting pissed on before it’s finished.”
“So… I sleep here?” Her voice sounded far from pleased. “You’re already leaving?”
“You can sleep in the road if you want; we need to keep moving as soon as the horses are rested,” Levi said. Despite the weather, he seemed far drier than her. “This is not a holiday. We’re soldiers. We push. That’s it.”
“So you’re leaving,” the omega insisted.
“Yes, I am off.”
Her pout didn’t go unnoticed, not at all. While she debated with herself about the situation and realised that Armin’s conclusion made sense, Levi was sizing her up and down. ‘If I knew how to ride, this would be easier.’
“Don’t you have another coat?” A drop of water slid off her chin and hit the mud between them.
“Huh?” The question came out of nowhere for her, only to then be answered correctly, “No. I wasn’t planning on taking a shower in the middle of the countryside when I packed.”
The squeaking of the horses in the distance and the sound of the galloping made both force their attention backwards.
“So, you’re leaving,” she repeated and forced him, who was looking over his shoulder at his soldiers, to turn around.
“Yes. I’m off.”
Despite the situation replaying for a second time, neither attempted to move. He stood there, feet so secured in his position that if he wasn’t so short, someone may have taken him for a tree. She mirrored the attitude.
Both made an inhuman effort to not wrinkle their nose and try to catch a sign of anything. The most unusual was that Levi was the first to lose the stoicism to replace it with a frown.
‘Come on… the past few days you were all about those goodbye kisses, and now that I stick around for them, you let me stand here like an idiot.’
‘You make the first move, asshole.’
One last time, he repeated, “I’m off,” with so much disdain.
“Okay,” her nose wrinkled this time, not trying to catch on to anything but out of pure hate.
“Tch”, the clicking of his tongue, a nervous tick mimicking hers with her ring, echoed in the empty forest. To her surprise, he unbuttoned his green cloak and put it around her. “Put this on; you look like shit,” he said and added, “And stop telling people you’re wet.”
Looking down at it, the fresh memory of his formal trench coat around her during their wedding day struck a sensible nerve in her. That, or the smell of it penetrated her nose and flooded her senses like rain flooding soil. Fighting each cell to not bring it to her nose and take a good inhale of it, especially because she feared purring like a fool like the last time.
“Wait,”
This time he was ready, embarrassingly so if he could admit it. Already tilting his head to a side as her hand touched his shoulder, he was ready for her to press her cheek against his and mimic a fake subtle kiss sound now that the rest were too far away for him to fear the scrutiny.
He was not ready for what she actually did. She didn’t even give him time to close his eyes when she softly pressed her lips against his in a very subtle peck. Like the one they had shared, it is a way less romantic setting inside the tent. Her eyes were closed, and he thanked any existent god for it because his surprised face would only carry on more problems.
When she opened them up, the bottom of her eyes was already raised in composure with her cheeks. Those were also blushed. “Take care,” she said.
What was she expecting? Not even her own mind could make itself up about it. But his hand reached for the back of her head, and she blushed deeper, thinking that as if in a romantic book, he was going to push the back of her head to go deeper. But instead, he placed the hood over her head.
“Don’t catch a cold,” he said, already stepping back. While he didn’t give her enough time to speak, her face immediately grimaced in tiredness. “I don’t give kisses to sick people. I’m very germophobic.”
It made her chuckle. “Really?”
“Don’t come crying later on.”
The rain eventually eased a little bit, and the idea of missing a tent never crossed her mind until now. But when it was passing midnight and they had just arrived to build the camp up, she certainly did.
Levi shoved the itchy gray blanket higher over his shoulder with a decisive tug, like he was drawing a line, marking the end of whatever pushy conversation she thought she could keep going. His bare legs stuck out the bottom, he’d long given up on staying fully dressed in this godforsaken heat, modesty has lost the battle. But ditching the blanket altogether felt like surrendering to the cold. That was too much. Some things just made sense, even if they didn’t.
One arm folded beneath his head, his face turned away from her, eyes squeezed shut with deliberate force, his brows deeply furrowed. He wasn’t asleep, anyone could tell but he was clearly committed to faking it. Or at least, forcing the night to end by sheer will. Mostly, he was hoping she’d get the message.
“Levi…” she called out again.
“Go to sleep,” he muttered, each word bitten off and heavy with exhaustion. Her persistence was wearing him down, strand by strand, like a fraying rope.
“But I need to ask you something…” She shifted upright slightly. Her voice had that unmistakable pouty tone—he could practically hear the lip quivering.
“Ask me in the morning.”
“But—” she protested, voice smaller now, embarrassed.
He groaned into the blanket. “For the love of—what could possibly be so important that it can’t wait till sunrise?”
Her voice dipped into a sheepish murmur. “It’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you…”
His brow twitched. Levi let out a longer breath, then scoffed. “And it just had to be asked at three in the damn morning? In a tent?”
“…Kinda.”
The awkward silence that followed was laced with too much emotion to ignore. He cracked one eye open and glanced over his shoulder. She was sitting up now, fiddling with her fingers and looking away.
‘…She’s kinda cute like that,’ he thought grimly, and instantly regretted it.
“I wanted to ask you in private,” she murmured.
Levi propped himself up on an elbow, gaze sharpening. Whatever this was, she clearly wasn’t going to drop it.
“What?” he asked, already annoyed, but clearly listening.
“Well, since you're my husband now and all… I guess it should be you who teaches me.” She was dancing around the words like they were hot coals, and that irritated him even more. He clicked his tongue. “I want to ride.”
His brain shut off.
“…What?”
“It was Armin idea!”
It’s just that his brain had already gone places. Dangerous, sweaty, deeply inappropriate places.
“I want you, as my husband, to teach me how to ride. I don’t really know how to do it, and I’m kinda ashamed, but I thought if I felt a little bit in control, I might be willing to try new things—”
Her awkward stammering was cut off by his sharp interruption, voice rough and suddenly tight.
‘A couple of kisses and you’re already asking me this?’
“Riding what?” he cut in, voice suddenly dry and a little panicked, because his brain was already passing down all the decisions and thinking to his other head.
‘She’s that ready? I mean… I do prefer to be on top, but—shit, for a virgin, she’s eager but I guess it's easier for a virgin to see how much deep they want to go? And here? In a tent? I mean, I won’t be the first to do it like this, but… damn, I thought she'd want a bed at least.’
‘Not that I’m complaining, though.’
“A horse,” she said flatly, frowning at him like he was the idiot. “What else is there to ride?”
All the tingling heat rushing down his spine screeched to a stop. His body had been seconds away from betraying him—his scent, his posture, everything had been more than ready to jump the gun. He was even ashamed of how quickly his own body betrayed him giving away a “I’m more than ready,” scent.
“Well,” he muttered under his breath, “I could think of a few things…”
She sniffed. “Wait. Why do you smell like that?”
“Go to bed, for fuck’s sake,” he growled, flipping back over and yanking the blanket high enough to bury half his face.
“Are you going to teach me or not?” A muffled thud followed, along with her yelp: “Don’t hit me with a pillow!”
“Shut up!” Levi hissed. “You’re gonna wake the whole damn camp!”
-
Despite the rush and them being behind schedule, everyone in the formation needed a day to recover. Especially the horses who had been doing all the heavy pushing through the mud.
“Captain? The meeting to decide the new route is about to start, sir.”
Armin approached his superior with confusion, as it was unusual for him to be late. But he stopped midway, choosing to admire the scene from a safe distance.
Levi was holding the lead of his black mare while Y/N sat on top, hardly showing the posture or attitude of a girl who could be considered to be riding.
“Straighten your back. You’re slouching,” Levi instructed, but the girl kept her fearful grip on the reins.
“I’m going to fall,” she squeaked as Levi made the horse move in slow circles around the open area.
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes!”
Two pairs of blue eyes followed the scene in silence, not daring to disturb it and lose the moment’s momentum.
“Even if you fall, I’ll catch you.”
She blushed, and her tense shoulders relaxed slightly. The beta wondered if, under different conditions, he would have caught a shift in scent.
“Really?” she muttered, though there was no real doubt — only playfulness.
“You think I wouldn’t be able to catch you?” Levi raised a single eyebrow, as if the question itself were absurd.
“I believe you,” she said between giggles.
The blond’s desire to stay out of it was strong, but he had a task to perform.
“Sir… the meeting?”
Levi barely looked behind himself as he continued guiding the horse. “You can go in my place. I’m busy.”
Armin’s mind froze mid-motion, like an animal pretending to stay still to avoid being caught.
“Me?” His voice was barely a whisper as he pointed at himself. “In a higher-up meeting?”
How many times had they, as cadets, admired the higher-ups walking into offices and closing the doors behind them, papers in hand? Their last view always being straight backs and pressed uniforms. Wondering what was discussed inside.
“It’s about time you and the others start taking responsibilities. I can’t keep babysitting you all forever.”
While it felt like those reasons were clouded by a recently discovered personal interest, Armin still felt like a duck thrown into the air to learn how to fly — ready to spread its wings, but scared of the fall.
“Thank you, sir!” He saluted, the meaning finally sinking in, confusion turning into bright eyes. He stomped loudly before rushing back. “I’ll report everything in great detail.”
“Yeah, yeah.” The captain seemed unworried about the possibility of the blond messing up and quickly returned to his task. “I’ll let you go. Gallop around alone.”
“NO!” she squeaked in fear, barely managing the posture needed just to make the horse walk. “Don’t let me go!”
But when she turned to beg him, Levi had both hands in his pockets, and the horse was already moving in steady circles.
“I already did.”
“Levi!” She kept looking over her shoulder in panic.
“Eyes forward,” he called out, calm but firm.
The instructions were faintly heard in the distance as the cadet rushed back toward the main tent. Seeing him return without the short captain, Hange frowned.
“And Levi?”
With the enthusiasm of a kid in a candy store, Armin said, “He said I could go in his place!”
Tilting their head slightly, Hange used the higher ground of the hill they stood on to observe the scene.
“He said he’s busy,” Armin added, his voice distant despite standing right next to them.
They frowned, not out of confusion. The picture was crystal clear. Levi stood with hands on hips, giving instructions while the girl slowly, steadily grew more confident atop the black horse. Levi’s horse.
It wasn’t uncommon for superiors to send advanced cadets to meetings in their place. Hange themselves used to send Moblit sometimes. But the lingering feeling of betrayal didn’t fade with logic.
Why does it bother me so much? I’m always the one telling him to get closer to her.
Feelings didn’t have to be logical to be real.
The horse slowed to a stop, and Levi moved to pat its nose.
“You did good,” he said, surprisingly gentle. “Good girl.”
The omega flushed through the entire spectrum of red as her voice jumped an octave.
“Levi! That’s not appropriate!”
Gray eyes lifted, and the man’s stoicism only made it worse.
“I was talking to the horse.”
Playful complaints, embarrassment mixed with entertainment, companionship — it all blended into distant chuckles and teasing remarks.
Hange understood that standing on the hill, watching them enjoy their little bubble, wasn’t going to change anything. They slowly turned away. The couple’s conversation faded into the background as Armin’s rambling about meeting preparations grew more prominent.
“I am so excited about maybe taking part in meetings. I’ve been researching the origins of the soldiers we’ll receive, and their countries are mind-blowing.”
Somehow, that snapped something inside the usually lively commander, who had gone unusually quiet.
“Really? Every time I try to talk to Levi about cultures outside the walls, he seems so uninterested. I would love to discuss it with someone.” The comment sounded casual, but carried a thin layer of bitterness.
The blond, too deep in his excitement, didn’t notice.
“Well… Captain Levi doesn’t strike me as someone who’s into that.”
“How could he not? It’s fascinating!” the brunette exclaimed, trying to return to their usual eccentric energy.
But that easygoing attitude was hard to find when the cadet summarized the issue so simply, shrugging.
“Some people just have different interests—”
One.
Two.
Raindrops began falling from the sky again.
“—different dreams.”
Their head moved slowly, lips slightly parted, brown hair clinging to their face. They watched from behind as the gray sky finally opened again. Levi stopped the horse and extended his arms to help her down.
“It’s raining,” she complained.
“Come on. Barely a June shower,” he said as her feet touched the dew-covered grass. “Isn’t that kind of your thing?”
“My thing—?” Before she could process it, he added:
“Froggy.”
Her gasp was loud. “Do NOT call me that!”
She pouted in mock anger as they enjoyed their little corner of happiness in that wretched place. Her hand lifted to pinch his arm playfully, and the simple ring on her ring finger shone brightly. It was stupid how eye-catching it was, even in the dim light.
“Commander?” Armin called, realizing Hange had stopped walking.
The truth was that the ring was simple, probably cheap, made of no particularly valuable metal. It wasn’t extravagant at all.
‘It’s alright. We have different dreams,’
Extra scene:
While the omegas debated the invisible weight they had felt since birth; like a combat boot pressing against their necks during their long, painfully slow march. The alphas waited ahead for their return.
Cigarettes hung loosely from their lips. Vacant expressions. Endless hours of staring into the abyss, each man lost in his own thoughts. Or perhaps no thoughts at all.
Eventually, the Commander glanced to his left. “You good?”
The Captain — who had been enduring physical exhaustion, mental overload, and enough doubts about his life choices to trigger a full existential crisis at the early age of thirty-four, all while leading a country into war — answered: “Yeah. You?”
“Yeah.”
One slow drag from the cigarette. A throat cough to clear it. A few guttural groans of complaint. Then silence settled again.
“You think…” Hange started in a wondering tone, the kind that immediately told the Captain nothing good was about to follow. He remained unfazed. “If Titans had genitals… when they do the hardening, would it just get harder on the outside, or would they get a boner too?”
Levi’s hand came up, palm covering his eyes.
“Think about it and let me know,”
Author Note:
I want to extend a personal thanks to all of you. I've mentioned in a post and in private that the past year hasn't been particularly easy for me. But the love and support this story gets is unthinkable for me and when I was having extremely bad days I would sit down to read the comments or talk to friends about random scenes about this fic.
Thank you deeply <3 As always, thank you for reading and supporting this story. I fear this is not my best work but I have something special reserved for next chapter so I will try to bring it as soon as possible and give it extra care.
Lots of love,
Lucy
P.S: it will never not be funny to me how half of the characters talk about Erwin's death as this major trauma they all had and Mc being like "Who?"
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