The most beautiful and intense and heartfelt kiss ever! Perfect, everything is perfect! The kiss that seals the promise of an eternity.
In the end, Wook outsmarts even his own master, the ultimate queen of spin - he bets everyone’s life, including his own, on the power of Naksu’s love for him. And he defeats her because he believes her love for him is stronger than anything.
The fact that Naksu was ready to let everyone die in exchange for her powers and a life of loneliness but couldn’t live in a world that didn’t have Wook in it, she gives up the ultimate power for a chance of a lifetime with him. That’s an epic character arc.
Naksu could never bear the thought of losing Wook and, in the end, she chooses him, like she did many times already, she chooses a simple life with him over all the power in the world and a bleak empty life of loneliness. She trusts him to love her forever.
Wook and Naksu’s sheer urgency and desperation in that kiss. It’s insanely intense as they cling onto each other desperately - she is especially needy because she came this close to losing him and wants to make sure he is there and be as close to him as possible.
The way she raises on her tippy-toes to lean towards his lips, his huge bloodied hands cradling her tiny head and possessively and intimately sneaking around her small back, the way he envelops her in his arms and pulls her towards him until there is no space separating their bodies which are pressing against each other everywhere, the way they savour and devour each other…
He is an actual baby - pure, innocent and precious! That giddy, shy smile when he reaches inside his robe for the jade eggs! He must be protected at all costs! No wonder Mu Deok aka Naksu, the cold-hearted assassin, was willing to sacrifice her own life and her vendetta for that adorkable smile.
Just train me, abuse me, I will do as you say and happily be your slave. - Jang Wook, probably.
The moment when he tells her she can abuse him to her heart’s content as long as she doesn’t leave him! He doesn’t give a damn whether she trains him until he drops dead as long as she stays. This must be absolutely heartbreaking for Wook (20 years of abandonment issues and he still can’t catch a break), especially after him putting up the false bravado and being blasé and resigned about her throwing him away once she didn’t need him.
Despite his promise to respect her decision to leave, he just can’t let her go. He’s like a baby bird who just hatched, imprinting on the first person he sees, on her. And so he begs for her not to abandon him, like the countless people before her.
The moment it dawns on him she is breaking up with and his abandonment toll has reached double digits.
Lee Jae Wook is an actor’s actor. You can watch even the slightest shift of emotions on his face. Wook’s heart is silently shattering to pieces here while watching Mu Deok with that sad and needy look of a puppy who is being pushed away by his mistress for his own good.
The undertone and subtext is so loud here: ‘I would never do that. I’m not like them. I would never abandon you. You are mine, now’
He is grabbing at straws, trying to find any reason that would persuade her to stay with him, but he is also genuinely worried for her and afraid those people may hurt her. He knows what they’re capable of - he was there and watched her body burn and turn into ashes after they had set it on fire.
Now, he is begging, even though that must have hurt like hell coming from her because it insinuates that he isn’t good enough and can’t give her what she needs and that’s the reason why she is leaving him - which has been pretty much his greatest fear and insecurity, that everyone throws him away because he is just now worth it. Instead, he desperately tries to persuade her he could give her everything she needs and you know if she didn’t interrupt him he would have begged her to give him more time, give him another chance, that he won’t let her down.
The final straw - when she praises him, telling him he was a good boy student and giving him the acknowledgement and appreciation he has craved his whole life.
Noble idiocy doesn’t work on Young Lord Jang, Lady Assassin. If only Maidservant Kim knew! Her Young Master is the one clingy. Frankly, Wook could go around with a collar reading “Mu Deok’s property” and no one would even bat an eye because he keeps following her around as if he was tied to her by an invisible leash which he himself put around his neck… and her leg.
“Okay,” Vincenzo nodded gently. “I’ll be done within 24 hours.” There was a brief silence between them as the reality of Vincenzo’s situation became clearer. He glanced downward, unable to make eye contact. “After that,” he paused, his fingers fidgeting.
Cha-Young decided to finish his unspoken thought for him. “You’ll be leaving.” He swallowed thickly but didn’t respond. She already knew and understood what he didn’t want to voice in words.
Eventually, he nodded.
“Then,” Cha-Young looked away as Vincenzo brought his attention back to her. When she could form her thought into words, she met his eyes again. “I guess this is our last night together.”
heyy! can I request one where after farlan and isabel’s death, Levi started pushing y/n away. In one expedition, she sacrifices herself for him and he thought she was dead but she turns out to be in Marley with Zeke without memories? You can choose the ending heh thanks!
hiii it only took me 300 years to finish your request😭. life got in the way for a while. i hope you enjoy!!
also, for the sake of plot, zeke was there when wall maria fell in 845 and eren is imprisoned for longer in s4.
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description: Four years after you sacrificed yourself for Levi in battle, he sees your ghost dressed as a Warrior, living in Marley. You’re alive, but you’re no longer yourself. In order to rectify his past mistakes, he chooses to stop at nothing to bring you back.
wc: ~6.3k
content/warnings: so much angst, canon-typical violence, a very painstaking scene, canon divergence, smut for like 10 seconds, undoing brainwashing (emotional manipulation&light physical harm), emphasis on hurt/comfort, s4p1, self-hatred, lots of healing, Levi is trying his best
Liberio. Levi wanted to pinpoint that that was where his days began.
After nights upon months upon the agonizing and the blood over years, he had never felt more alive than before you both had lost Isabel and Farlan than the breath that passed him the moment your eyes met again in Liberio two months ago.
The woman he had met, or rather, the conversation that had been thrust upon him: he had tailed the Warrior who was playing dress-up using your face and the Marleyans’ military garb.
It was only after barely fleeing the scene that you—he thought it had to be you, she looked like you, sounded like you—that you approached him upfront.
“And who’re you?” you had asked him, smirking like a fox. “If you were from around here, you’d know how hard it is to sneak up on a Warrior.”
You, a ghost, had been resurrected, sure enough, but you were no longer yourself. It was impossible for him to accept it wasn’t a joke at first—but no, it wasn’t, not even the most abhorrent of one by whatever freak of nature was capable of it.
He had seen battle hundreds of times, but never had adrenaline burned so bright in his blood. What he had known, without a doubt, was that such a miracle wouldn’t be dropped into his hands without a price: you yourself.
He covered the three ugly, trailing scratches on his arm now, deep in thought. Two months later he was still paying for your sacrifice the day Wall Maria fell.
After Isabel and Farlan, knowing what you too had lost, having it fully in mind that you were the last one left who had stuck by his side for so long—he had acted the part of a bastard and he had known it. That was a choice he alone had made.
No matter if those two had been devoured by Titans or fell victim to Levi’s own hubris, either way you would eventually one day be next. And either way, guilt would one day sink its talons into him and never let him go.
He made a choice—for every pleading glance, then pleading words, then outraged ones—every second he pulled away was these past two months in the making. Who was he to expect that you were foolish enough to sacrifice your life for his in that split second? Who was he to expect anything other than that?
He had paid then, and he paid now.
Following Eren and Zeke’s capture, a recapture on Eren’s part, whatever free fall he had experienced inside himself had gone into cold hibernation.
tiktok is doing the same sort of damage to young adults and teenagers that fox news is doing to boomers. i'd even say tiktok is worse with how influential social media is and how it's beginning to take precedent over actual news.
Levi and you strolling down the street, hand in hand, side by side. He is taking mental notes of you, like how your hair glows under the sun, and your eyes light up when you see pretty flowers in your favourite colour, and you subconsciously squeeze his hand when you get excited by something in the market.
It was a harsh winter. There was a snowstorm that went on for a week. There was no sunlight and everyone was stuck in HQ even though Commander Erwin allowed everyone to go home to their families.
Cadets were falling sick one by one and the canteen with a huge fireplace was transformed into a temporary infirmary. Sick cadets were placed near the fire to keep them warm.
When you fell sick Levi personally took care of you in his office. He kept his fireplace burning 24/7, be by your side as much as he can and made sure you ate all your food before taking meds.
However, even the snowstorm passed and majority of the sick cadets had recovered, you were still having on and off fever. You were disappointed because you felt like a burden to Levi.
To lift your spirits, Levi made tiny snowmen and place them on the window stool. He would carry a bucket of fresh snow to the office and make snowmen for your entertainment. Sometimes when you weren't as sick, you would make requests, while other times, you just watched his delicate fingers working on the snow with eyes half opened.
Levi might not speak much, but he shows love via actions.
Deep down, Levi is talkative. When his mother was still alive, he used to talk a lot. To his mom, to the women and customers in the brothel. But after his mom's passing and he experienced first hand of the cruelty of the world, he learnt to keep his thoughts to himself.
And then, you came along. You were the only person bold enough to quarrel with him, Captain Levi, Humanity's Strongest Soldier. Sometimes telling Levi his orders were bullshit, and you weren't going to follow if things went south. You earned a lot of cleaning sessions late into the night, or extra sparring trainings because Levi believes that pain is the best way to teach.
When you both were alone, either deep cleaning the public bathroom or you laying on the ground breathing through your mouth loudly, Levi would start a conversation. He would normally start with commenting how bad your stamina was, and it would lead to something else.
It was rare to have someone see him as an equal instead of a higher being. People either fear him or admire him, it had been a long time since he had someone seeing him as a man than a weapon. You would give comments here and there whenever thoughts popped into your mind. It was with you at the deep of the night that Levi found someone he could talk to. From politics to the ridiculous design of Erwin's suits he wore to formal functions, Levi couldn't shut up.
But 1 thing he could never admit was, he enjoyed your company. And sometimes you would purposely pick fights with Levi just to spend your nights with him, and instantly regret it in the morning. And you would do it all over again.
KIYOOMI is late to work. and it’s not his fault. no, he didn’t sleep in. he didn’t forget to turn off the stove. he didn’t forget his keys. in fact, he woke up at seven am like he always does. but kiyoomi is late to work and it’s because of you.
“baby, one more kiss? the last one,” you say, lips already chasing after his.
but kiyoomi puts a hand over your mouth. “you said that twenty kisses ago.”
“last one, i promise, please?”
and now you’re holding onto his necktie, eyes blinking at him, waiting for him to say yes. but kiyoomi is already ten minutes late to work and he knows that if he caves into you he will be even later. so he opens his mouth, about to say no, but then you kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear.
“please?”
god. he can’t say no to you.
kiyoomi kisses you, sighing into the kiss. he can feel your smile against his lips. what a little devil, he thinks. but that doesn’t matter right now, because your lips feel like heaven and kiyoomi thinks this is paradise. and kiyoomi kisses you again and again and again until you’re both breathless.
things can often get heated whenever you’re having a makeout session with levi, especially when you’re on top.
you can’t help but slowly start grinding on him while your tongues fight for dominance. a groan escaped levi’s throat, grabbing onto your hips and pulling away from the kiss briefly.
“don’t do that. i’m not gonna be able to hold back” levi hissed while you take your ministrations down to his jaw and neck. you smirked against the sensitive skin, grinding on him again.
“don’t do what? hmm? i’m not doing anything” you teased, looking up at him innocently while continuing to grind on him. levi threw his head back against the pillows, the friction you’re creating was becoming too much for him.
within a split second, you managed to flip a switch inside levi and you found yourself underneath him — both your wrists pinned to the bed, his face centimeters away from yours, lips teasingly brushing up against every exposed skin.
“you know exactly what you did, brat. don’t start complaining if you can’t walk tomorrow”
during makeout sessions with levi, you sometimes can’t help but put your mark on him — hickeys, lovebites, even scratches when it gets really heated.
you couldn’t stop yourself from biting your bottom lip upon seeing levi later on that day, in his complete uniform, stoic, and cold like usual as if he wasn’t squirming and softly moaning under your touch earlier.
the smug smile broke through your expression. under that complete uniform of his, was the countless marks that only you knew about — the marks that indicated that he was yours and you were his.
Concept: You're gravely injured during an expedition that goes wrong, and in the confusion you're abandoned in Titan territory.
Pt. 1 Summary: Everything had been going far too well, so it only makes sense that when you're reaching record breaking distances beyond Wall Rose that it all goes to shit. Could you blame them really? Leaving you behind? Assessing the sharp point of your femur poking through your thigh you decide, yeah, you could blame them a little. The question now is how you're going to get back to blame them in person. Or rather, how you're going to survive long enough to try.
Warnings (PLEASE BE AWARE this is a rough one): Angst, a lot of cursing, gore, graphic descriptions of injuries, dead animals, dead bodies, Titans, using Titans to survive, burns, starvation, dehydration, (if I missed anything, please let me know)
A/N: This is Part One in a five-part story. The reader centric parts (one and three) are actually inspired by a nightmare I had when I first got into the show years ago. Still love it with all my heart! Levi is only mentioned in this one, but Part Two and Four are Levi centric so stick around if you're interested! This is definitely different from my first drabble post, but I want to show I have some range in my writing - plus if this idea sticks around any longer in my head I'll start having nightmares again, so consider this a personal purge I guess.
-----
You know the moment your eyes lock onto hers, a desperation unlike anything you've felt before clawing up your throat as you reach out to the too young, too scared, too fresh-faced cadet too far from your fingertips. You can see it in the shake of her hands, the quiver of her lip, the wet stain between her legs, she isn't going to help you. She takes one step back, hovering somewhere between the weight of her boots like she hasn't already decided which direction she's going to go in, before a terrifying resolve settles on her face and she sprints away from your prone form partially trapped beneath the corpse of your horse.
Not so long ago, you remember advocating for this particular cadet to join your squad despite her lack of experience. Number One in her graduating class but still choosing to join the Scouts and skills with the ODM gear that rivaled many of their veteran soldiers. You wanted her close during the expedition, wanted to make sure she lived because you had no doubt she could be valuable to the cause with the right mentorship.
You have doubts now.
You can't even remember her name.
And what does that even matter when you're being crushed under the dead weight of your horse, rain flooding what remains of your vision, pain the likes of which you could have never imagined sparking from your right leg up into the delicate curve of your spine.
No one had expected rain so far into the expedition, let alone monsoon calibers of the icy cold hazard. Perhaps you should have given the approach of winter, but nearly two days on horseback with no clouds in sight had led you all into a false sense of security. The goal of the expedition had been simple: ride out as far as feasibly possible, establish a new base within wall Maria, stock it with the supplies you brought along for future expeditions, and return with minimal casualties. Erwin's evasion strategy was practically fool proof given the right circumstances.
Thickets of rain and hail, not to mention a wave of unnoticed abnormals, were not the right circumstances funnily enough.
You're lucky no titans have spotted you struggling to wiggle out from where your right leg is stuck between the unforgiving ground and your even more unforgiving horse. They're too busy chasing after your remaining comrades, now so far you could only distinguish them by the cloud of blue smoke in the distance. Blue, Retreat. But you can't, trapped as you are with your stubborn bull of a horse. She'd always been an ornery beast, nipping at your fingers and hair, playing tricks when you'd try to saddle her properly. You'd lovingly named her Bully within minutes of your assignment to her. You miss her already.
"I'm sorry girl, I - fuck that hurts," you wince, salty tears mixing with the rainwater on your cheeks. "Fuck, shit sorry girl - my leg, you have to let me go Bully...you - shit SHIT! Okay okay okay, deep breaths, deep fucking breaths." Your chest rattles in a way you think it shouldn't every time you breath. You brace your hands against her flank and push. "Just a little more, just - fuck - just a little more girl. You gotta let me go, please please, they're leaving - I have to, shit ow! Walls, you snuck way too many sugar cubes Bully. Ah, shit shit dammit, just let me - !"
Your body flails in the mud, agony pulsing like a heartbeat from your now free leg, arms limp and spent at your sides. You contemplate, for just a moment, stopping there because the next step is looking at your leg, assessing the damage, and you're far too scared to see how screwed you are.
But you don't want to die, not here, not like this. Not when you have someone waiting for you. Levi doesn't deserve to lose anyone else. Walls, Levi. You wish he was here, barking orders at you to get up, get up, get the fuck up, FUCKING GET -
With a gasp of wet air and a cry lodged in your throat, you sit up. The right side of your ribcage shifts unnaturally, but you ignore that in favor of the main problem. Seeing the white of your bone through a tear in your pants has you choking back a sob.
"This is fine, this is - fuck, okay not fine, not fine." You breathe through your teeth, your mouth worryingly sticky and metallic. "Don't - don't think about it, just take stock. Figure out what to do next."
Next, right, what's next? Obviously, the most pressing injury is your splintered femur, the sharp point piercing through the meat and muscle of your thigh. You're fairly certain your knee is dislocated and the awkward bend of your ankle isn't very promising, nor is the warmth pooling in your boot that definitely isn't rain. Okay, so the next step has to be removing your boot and cutting away the fabric of your pants.
It takes longer than you like because ODM gear belts are the absolute worst, but you can't cut them away because you actually fucking need them if you want any chance of surviving. It hurts so much you wonder if you've reached new decibels of pain that no one's ever felt. But you get them off eventually, after a few more muttered curses. Bile threatens to rise in your throat at the discoloration of your leg once you slice away the fabric. You're pretty sure, had you made it to the medics, they would just decide to cut off the leg altogether; but, you can't afford the blood loss even if you could summon the strength for the task.
You prep one of your remaining two short halves of a broken blade, wrapping them in the scraps of fabric from your pants. With no sticks readily available in your reach, this would have to work as a splint for now. You hope they don't cut up what's left of your thigh with the fabric as a cushion. Removing the belt from your waist, you place the leather between your teeth.
Popping the bone back into place is far harder than you thought it would be. Quickly lining up your tailored splint, you pull the belt from your mouth and stabilize your femur as tightly as you can without losing feeling in your leg - although you wouldn't mind some kind of numbness to soften this whole experience. You wonder briefly at what point you'll cross the threshold into shock.
A deep breath that's really more of a resigned sigh pulls you back to the task at hand and you remove your cloak from your shoulders to tear the fabric into strips. Your knee is definitely dislocated, and your ankle is at the very least severely sprained if not broken. Realigning and wrapping them is far easier than taking care of your thigh, but you still curse your way through tying the final knots.
The last bit to take care of has you gritting you teeth in frustration. You don't have any supplies for stitches, but you can't just let your blood flow freely from the gash in your calf. You're not sure if a rock somehow made its way into your boot and sliced you open or if Bully's weight had caused your muscles to pop and split the skin of your calf, but either way your priority is now closing the gash that stretches just below the back of your knee down to your Achilles tendon.
Your fingers scratch at your scalp, tangling into your hair while you try to suppress your panic. And then you have a thought.
Levi swore up and down when he showed you the matching rings he had made that it wasn't a proposal. "A promise," he'd said. "A promise to each other, that we'll do everything we can to survive this war." He'd taken the slightly larger of the two, the one meant for his hand, and threaded it onto a long silver chain to hang around your neck. "And when it's all over, well you know..." and he'd trailed off with a rare blush and a shrug like it wasn't the most romantic gesture he could have made.
You feel that chain now, cold under the collar of your shirt. Sniffling, you unclasp the chain from around your neck and hold it close to your heart. "Thank you, my love," you whisper, pulling the ring from the chain. "And I'm so very sorry."
For the time being, you put the ring on your thumb because it's just snug enough you don't have to worry about it falling off. You hold the end of the chain in one hand and your knife in the other.
It's bloody and messy and the chain isn't even silver anymore by the time you're done, but the gash is closed and you think you have the chill of the rain to thank for the numbness settling into your body. You wrap the remaining scraps of your cloak around your calf.
You know at this point it's too late to follow. Even if you could run, there's no chance you would catch up either before they're all already safe behind Wall Rose again, or a Titan snatches you up for a midnight snack.
"I have a promise to keep," you say with a gentle kiss to the silver on your thumb.
There's a small forest about a kilometer north from your position. With great effort and no small amount of curses, you reattach all of the ODM gear belts to your legs, both grateful and entirely in pain from the pressure they put on your wounds and bruised bare skin. There's no way your boot will fit over the swell of your ankle let alone all of the extra bindings so you decide to leave it behind. You're fairly certain your ribs are bruised, not broken, so you try not to worry about them as you struggle up into a standing position. A wave of vertigo washes over you, but you steady yourself and push through the nauseating dizziness.
Leaning heavily on your blade as a sort of cane, you spare one last look at Bully's body, swallowing the sadness in your throat, and slowly start to stumble your way towards the forest.
You think that cadet's name may have started with an O.
-----
You find what's left of your squad midway between your dead horse and the forest.
Daryl Lepton was still relatively new to your squad, this being your third expedition together. He'd been kind and so very shy. He talked about his younger sister all the time, a little girl with a passion for baking. He always shared the treats she sent to him. Daryl's head is completely turned around, one of his legs and a chunk of his torso missing.
Benjamin Cross was your second, the member of your squad that had been around the longest and you trusted with your life. He trusted you with his own. He was a quiet man, but always made you laugh at the most inappropriate times. Half of Benny's skull is missing, his arms bent all wrong. His chest is caved in and pooling with rainwater.
You'd known Hailey Mitchell since your training days in the Cadet Corps, but she'd joined your squad only a year ago. She thrived on teasing you about your relationship with Levi and trying to dig up all the juicy details you refused to share, respecting your privacy while also pushing any buttons she could reach. Everything below Hailey's sternum is gone, and her eyes are wide with lingering terror.
You take their cloaks for the warmth. You take their patches for their memory. And you take as many intact blades and tanks of gas as you can carry for your survival.
You keep moving towards the forest, tears leaving tracks in the blood on your cheeks.
-----
The rain turns to snow just as you reach the line of massive trees you'd been looking for. Using the ODM gear with your mangled leg is a special kind of agony you don't wish on anyone, but you manage to scramble your way to a high enough branch that you shouldn't have to worry about any titans grabbing you in your sleep - if you sleep at all - while still having the cover of the upper canopy of leaves from the weather.
You wrap yourself in the cloaks of your fallen comrades. Two snug across your torso and head, the third wound around your damaged right leg stretched out in front of you. The bark is icy against your back, and your breath puffs out in front of you in clouds of white.
With the appearance of snow, you know you're beyond screwed. Expeditions are dangerous in the snow. Winter is the Scouting Regiment's slowest season, which is one reason it used to be one of your favorites. The others were distinctly Levi related, of course - like warm cups of tea and the occasional hot chocolate if you can convince Levi to indulge his sweet tooth, holding hands while you each read your respective books in front of the roaring fireplace, nights pressed skin to skin under a mountain of blankets...
Okay, stop, it physically hurts you to think about that right now. Because it's winter, and winter means snow, and snow means at least two months before the next expedition.
Fuck.
You lose your battle with consciousness sometime between the first feelings of thirst settling in your throat and the sound of thunderous footsteps in the distance.
-----
Thirst and hunger become major issues three days later. So are the two titans at the base of your tree that have been staring up at you for the last twelve hours or so.
There's a thick blanket of snow on the ground. Cold has set deep in your aching bones, and the only thing that keeps you from completely panicking is the fact that you're still shivering.
"Look at you two down there," you spit, stomach clenching painfully. "You as hungry as I am?" You shake your head, blinking passed the dizzy spell the action causes. "No, cause you don't actually need to eat anything, you fucking parasites!" The two titans just shuffle around, excited by your movement.
You've been trying to move your leg as often as possible to keep the blood flowing and hopefully limit any lasting damage from the injuries. It hurts like a bitch, but you can more or less bend your knee without dissolving into tears which is a big literal and figurative step in the right direction. You'd pat yourself on the back if your whole body didn't feel like one giant bruise.
"Okay, priority number one is getting rid of Dumb Fuck and Dumber Fuck down there. Priority two, water." Because you refuse to die of dehydration when the ground is literally covered in frozen water. You're spine screams at you as you rise, the tree you've called home the last few days not nearly as plush as your bed at home. You ready your blades, making sure the extra tanks of gas you took are safe on their perch.
Dumb Fuck is the taller of the two, about seven meters if you had to guess, with bulbous eyes, strangely short arms, and a tuft of wiry gray hair. Dumber Fuck is only around four meters, skinny for a titan, and with a smile as wide as it's face is long. It makes more sense to go for the bigger problem first, right?
Wrong, apparently. As you're about to slice through the nape of Dumb Fuck, the littler bastard actually fucking jumps to swat at you like a pesky fly. It misses, of course, because even injured you're still one of the fastest soldiers in the military. You were trained by Humanity's Strongest after all. Plus, titans are slower in the cold, which is definitely a bonus. But having to swerve like that jostles your leg and spine in a particularly unpleasant way that has you toppling towards one of the snow piles.
And you remember why snow is so dangerous. Not just the cold or the wet. Titans practically hibernate under there, and you've just poked the bear.
Dumbest Fuck joins the ranks, all fat and round in the middle, limbs long and gangly - too thin for a torso so large. At least eleven meters, if it bothers to stand, which you aren't sure if it will. Its eyes are sunken, peeking out from behind a curtain of greasy black hair. Its gaze is locked onto you, but no other part of it moves. You quickly decide the other two are more important because they're actually trying to eat you.
It's a fucking process to take down the two titans because you're tired and cold and thirsty and in pain and nothing has gone your way and any second that big one could decide to join the party and -
Oh, you're screaming. That's probably not good, that could attract more titans, so you bite your tongue hard enough to draw blood. You're still screaming, you think, but the sound is mostly muffled by your teeth and lips. You stand between the smoldering remains of Dumb Fuck and Dumber Fuck, screaming into your gums because you need the release about as much as you need to stay quiet.
The big one still hasn't moved. Prone on its back, oversized head tuned towards you.
You take a moment to bask in the warmth of the steam from the titan corpses before turning to your quiet companion. It's still watching you, but it doesn't even twitch as you take a step closer. And another. And another, until you're close enough to poke it's hand with your blade. Which you do.
Not a flinch or a tick or a blink. You poke it harder. Nothing. You stab its palm. It starts steaming, but doesn't move. You're starting to get an idea, and it just might be the most repulsive thing you can think of.
But you're so cold. And it's only going to get colder.
"This may be the best worst idea in history. Hange would be losing their shit right about now." You cut off its hands first, and then sever the muscles in its shoulders. It still doesn't move, even when you carefully creep up to its face and cut away its jaw. Just watching you with its sunken eyes. You shrug at it, unable to discern what, if anything, it’s trying to tell you in its gaze.
"Nothing personal," you say as you stab into its protruding gut and slice a sizeable hole. Titan blood steams in a puddle around you, but there doesn't seem to be any kind of stomach acid that could eat away through your clothes or skin. "Gotta stay warm, right?" You grimace, already regretting the brilliance of this idea, but your eyes lock on the silver band around your thumb, and resolve hardens in your chest.
You might be the first person ever to willingly subject yourself to a titan's stomach.
Steam billows around you as you widen the gash you made. It's stiflingly hot, which you decide is better than the deathly cold you've suffered through the last few days. The feeling is so relieving in fact, you don't even notice at first the red splotches forming on your hands, your skin burning away as it comes in direct contact with the muscle beneath the titan skin. Not until the pleasant sting of heat turns into a white-hot flash of pain that has you stumbling back into the snow. Pressing the burns into the frost only creates a new pain that has you hissing through your teeth.
"Fuck fuck fuck! Okay, alright, new approach." You sacrifice two long strips of one of the cloaks, Benny's you think, and wrap each of your hands like oven mitts. "Note to self: Try to avoid skin contact with your new furnace."
You situate yourself in a small nook you carved in the titan's gut, wondering what's become of your life in only a few days, and you allow yourself to hope for just a moment that you might make it through the next two months alive.
You scoop up a pile of snow nearby not drenched in titan blood and finally, finally, quench that gnawing ache in your throat.
-----
A few hours later, as the sun is beginning to rise, you remember you're hungry. Or rather, your stomach cramps so violently, you realize you're starving.
And you have no idea what the fuck to do about it.
Any plants you could eat have either withered away from the cold or are buried under so much snow you wouldn't even know how to start looking. Any animals you could kill are already dead, hibernating in places you can't find, or migrated somewhere warmer.
You're pretty sure titan isn't edible, and even if it was - which isn't something you particularly want to test - the thought alone somehow triggers your gag reflex despite not having had anything in your stomach for days.
But then you remember something awful.
"I'm going for a walk," you tell your furnace, your back itching from the prickly sensation of its stare. "If you heal up, I don't know, please don't wait around to eat me or something." You wave halfheartedly and start hobbling south.
-----
You stare down at Bully, now five days dead. Surrounded by snow, but luckily not completely buried. Luckily for you anyway. No visible rot, no bad smell or spoiled looking skin, no maggots or flies or disease that you could discern. Her body is preserved in the ice from the storm.
"You've always taken such good care of me, Bully," you whisper, resting your bandaged palm against her mane. "I'm so sorry, my precious girl."
With blurry vision, you start cutting.
-----
When you get back to your little makeshift campsite, you first recut all of the mobility points on your titan that still hasn't moved. Better safe than sorry, though it is regenerating rather slowly; you make a mental note to ask Hange if the cold could affect something like that next time you see them.
You go about making a fire from bark trimmings, a pile of twigs you pulled from branches, two rocks to light the spark, and some loose thread for kindling. You need to cook the meat before it spoils. You'll go back for the rest of it tomorrow.
"Looks like we're stuck with each other," you mumble, fumbling through starting the fire with cloth-wrapped hands and the two slippery rocks. "Giving you a name won't be the worst thing I've done today. How 'bout it? Any thoughts?"
Glancing over your shoulder, you meet the titan's unwavering gaze and wait for a response you know will never come, even if it had use of its jaw. You remember a kid from your childhood. Similarly gangly, all elbows and knees. He had a stutter. He used to make fun of you for being scared of bugs.
"I'm gonna call you Preston," you decide. "Any objections, speak now or forever hold your peace."
Preston doesn't say a word.
The rocks spark, the fire catches.
You think about what Levi is doing right about now, his ring cold against your thumb. He must think you're dead, they all probably do.
You wonder what that cadet told them after abandoning you to die.
Levi doesn’t use the word “crush”, nor has it ever crossed his mind.
For, the very moment his heart fluttered for you, the very moment his countenance softened for you, he knew a simple affection was not an option and had never been.
He knew it by the way his chest swelled with warmth and filled with butterflies when you stood near, when your eyes met across the room and when you smiled for him. He knew it by the way his chest ached and wailed when you walked away from him, leaving him with feet glued to the floor and a gaping hole where his heart should be, now beating in your hands.
He knew it from the moment he caught himself staring at your lips, burning to have a taste and lace an arm around your waist to bring you close, so close you’d feel his heart beating against your chest.
He knew it from the moment his entire being screamed at the thought of losing you. From the moment he found himself anxiously scouting through the faces that came back from a mission outside the walls, bated breaths and blood pumping in his ears as panic rises in him only for it all to crash when he finally catches sight of you. His legs unsteady and head spinning as it dawns on him that you are back and safe.
He knew it from the moment he found himself daydreaming of a peaceful future with you. Of mornings filled with gentle touches and afternoons bathed in sunlight. From the moment he stopped being scared of losing you, because he wouldn’t let this happen.
He couldn’t lose you, not now that he loved you.
@peace-for-levi here you go sister, because you are always down for a soft canon verse Levi <3
