my name is cece (she/her ; they/them) and this blog is my safe space on the internet where i write about my favourite fictional men! (mainly levi ackerman.)
+ 11.04.2022 update: now taking requests for ginoza nobuchika, kento nanami & gojo saturo
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“you are the bones of my spine. you are the ground beneath my feet. you are made of deeper stuff than what Earth can give.” *
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*poem is: A Letter from Hades to Persephone by Clementine von Radics
╰┈➤ synopsis: known as ‘marley’s darling’, your father, a high-ranking marleyan diplomat, introduced you as his pride and joy since you were out the womb. dazzling smiles, coy and subtly flirtatious remarks, an innocent but seductive allure that keeps you in the eyes of the public. with concerns for your safety, your father hires levi ackerman as your personal bodyguard, a war hero to some, a warm criminal to others. the same man who fought against your people.
・❥・ wc: 9k
・❥・ tags/warnings: age gap, levi is in his late thirties, reader is 26, angst, fluff, smut, alcohol, drugs, war veteran! levi, reader takes inspo from marilyn monroe, mentions of ptsd, depression, death, post! war, prejudice, guns, knives, violence, reader is marleyan, slow burn, sorta opposites attract?, dark themes, cussing, gross men, no titans! modern au, may have some canon divergent elements (e.g. levi has both legs still lol)
・❥・ series masterlist < next chapter
The sound of gravel cracks underneath Levi’s shoes, his hands stuffed into his coat pockets. It’s a sunny day in Eldia, he’s almost begun to miss this place. It’s much more different than Marley, not that he’s complaining. He’s only been here for three days, yesterday was his last. For some reason, he’s dreading the plane back. A sigh escapes his lips, shaking his head at the melancholic intrusions. He stops in his tracks when he hears a tiny hurdle of giggles and whispers. Looking over his shoulder is a small group of children around the age of five or six, looking up at him with wide, starry eyes. He can see the way their gaze flickers across his features, going from the long scar across his face to the ghostly, white eyeball of his. Some hold their smiles back, while others gasp in child-like delight.
He turns to face them fully, crouching down to the children’s height.
“H-Hi…” a timid girl greets. “Are you—”
“You’re Mr. Levi!” a much more brave young boy blurts out, his toothy grin widening. “You look cooler than the books!”
Levi’s lips twitch into the smallest of smiles at the boy’s enthusiasm, his usual stoic expression faltering for a moment. He straightens up, towering over them once again, though his gaze softens as he studies the children.
"Mr. Levi, right?" the timid girl asks again, her voice barely a whisper.
Levi’s heart skips a beat, a strange, unfamiliar warmth flooding him as he nods. “Yeah, that’s me.”
The children seem to surge forward as if they’ve all had the same unspoken idea, their eyes practically glowing with excitement. The boy in front pulls out a little notebook and a small pen from his pocket. “Can you sign it? Can you sign it for us?!” His voice is filled with such an innocent eagerness that for a moment, Levi just stares at the child, a little taken aback.
“You want my autograph?” he asks, his voice low, almost like he’s not sure what to make of this situation.
The children nod eagerly, the timid girl now clutching a scrap of paper between her tiny hands. Levi takes the paper from her, glancing over it for a brief moment before scribbling his name, his signature jagged and rough, just like everything else about him. “Here,” he hands it back to her, the girl’s eyes lighting up like she’s just been handed the most precious thing in the world.
“Thank you, Mr. Levi!” she squeaks, bouncing on her heels. “You're our hero!”
Levi straightens up again, his hand returning to his coat pocket as he glances over the group. They stare at him for a while, their eyes filled with admiration, something he hasn't seen in a long time. But it’s not the kind of admiration he’s used to—it's pure, innocent, almost reverent. He can feel the weight of their gaze, but for some reason, it doesn’t bother him. “Well, I’m not really a hero,” Levi mutters, running a hand through his hair. “But thanks.” He turns his gaze away from them, feeling that odd discomfort creeping in. “You kids should get back to playing, yeah?”
The children nod excitedly, and as the last few gremlins get their signature, they scurry away.
He shakes his head in a slight fondness, turning back around to continue his trek back to the private plane waiting for him. Seems being a veteran has pretty good perks, if he does say so himself. The hangar isn’t too far away, luckily. He’s already had his morning cup of tea from the shop he used to always frequent before moving, same owners, same tacky furniture—nothing could get better than that.
He can see a few men in the distance, seemingly getting his plane ready.
Levi continues to walk toward the hangar, his mind begins to wander. The children’s bright smiles and excited whispers echo in his head, their innocent admiration stirring something within him. He hadn’t been called a hero in years. Most people only saw the scarred, battle-worn soldier who had fought for survival. The idea of being a symbol of hope to anyone was something he'd long abandoned. But there they were—those little faces full of wonder, looking at him like he was more than just a man who’d lived through hell. His lips press into a thin line as he shakes his head. Maybe it was just the way they were raised, seeing heroes in simple things, not yet tainted by the harshness of reality.
As he gets closer to the plane, one of the men spots him and waves. “Mr. Ackerman!” the man calls out. “Everything’s ready for your departure. We’ve got a clear flight ahead.”
Levi nods, not in the mood for small talk but acknowledging the man’s efforts. He’s almost there—almost back to the place he’s tried to forget sometimes. Marley. He tenses at the thought. There’s nothing left for him here in Eldia—not really. The place is a relic of the past, and he's nothing more than a passing memory of a world that no longer exists. Besides, he has two other little rascals waiting for him back in Marley.
He stops just short of the plane, eyes narrowing as the men finish their preparations. The sound of metal clanging and the hum of engines fill the air, but his thoughts are elsewhere. It feels like a strange kind of irony, returning to Marley, where the tension between Eldia and Marley still simmers just beneath the surface, a conflict that’s far from over. But it’s not his fight anymore. Of course, things probably will never be the same, considering just how many lives were taken in the war. A war spanning over nine years that only ended five years ago.
As the men begin to board the plane, Levi lingers, staring out at the horizon. He can almost see the faint outline of the place he left behind. His throat tightens. He’d been a different man then, a soldier with a cause. Now, he was just trying to survive, trying to forget. Humanity’s strongest.
He pushes the thoughts aside, stepping onto the plane as the door closes behind him. The world outside becomes a blur as the engines roar to life. His seat is cold and uncomfortable, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t care about comfort. He’d long ago learned how to endure, how to keep moving forward. He settles back in the comfy chair the plane has to offer, opening the glass of whiskey that’s already been placed out on the table for him.
Giving himself a pour, he brings the rim to his lips and sips. A small hum of satisfaction sounds from him.
“Drinkin’ already?”
Levi stiffens, lips contorting into a hard-set frown. Kenny, uncaring of his niece’s animosity towards him, sits leisurely across from him. He takes his hat off and leans back with a relaxed sigh, lifting his legs onto the table between them and crossing his arms over his chest. “The hell are you doing here?”
Kenny scoffs. “Spending time with you, obviously.”
“I’d rather eat shit than be in your presence,” Levi gruffs back, eyes narrowing at his uncle. “As far as I’m concerned, this is a solo trip.”
“Was,” Kenny corrects. “Besides, got some business on the other side. Figured I’d hop a ride with you.”
Levi’s fingers tighten around his glass, the amber liquid swirling inside as his gaze locks onto Kenny, who seems entirely unfazed by the hostility radiating off Levi. The man across from him is annoyingly at ease, as always. A smirk dances across his uncle’s lips, a little too self-assured for Levi’s liking.
“Business?” Levi repeats, his voice laced with disbelief. “What kind of business? Last I checked, you didn’t exactly have a legitimate operation.”
Kenny’s eyes twinkle as if he’s relishing in the tension between them. He leans forward, and the casualness of the movement only serves to irritate Levi more. “You’re not the only one who can make deals, kid,” he drawls, the condescending tone sharp enough to cut through the stale air between them. “We’ve got some... mutual interests. Thought I’d tag along, see if you might actually get your hands dirty for once.”
Levi scowls but doesn’t respond immediately. He takes another sip of his drink, trying to swallow down the wave of frustration building in his chest. The last thing he wants is to be involved in any scheme that Kenny’s tangled up in. But, as always, Kenny knows exactly how to push his buttons, and Levi knew better than to think he’d be able to escape this.
“Not interested,” Levi mutters, leaning back in his seat, eyes flicking toward the window, though his mind is far from the view outside. “I’m not here for a job, nothing else. Keep your shady dealings to yourself.”
Kenny chuckles, the sound a low rumble that seems to settle uneasily in Levi’s stomach. “Right, forgot you’re Mr. High ‘n Mighty now. Forgive me, Your Highness.”
“You’re a fool. An old fool.” He scoots the whiskey bottle closer when he sees Kenny reaching for it.
“Oh, give me a break,” Kenny rolls his eyes, reaching forward and taking the bottle from his niece’s grip. He uncaps it and nonchalantly sips straight from the bottle. Levi doesn’t bother holding back the disgusted noise that leaves his throat, but says nothing and focuses his attention on the window as the plane begins to take off.
For a second, there’s silence.
Until Kenny opens his big mouth again.
“So…really not interested, huh?”
“No.”
“How come? Ain’t that compensated money the government lends ‘ya not that much? How the hell you even survivin’?”
Levi’s gaze sharpens at Kenny’s words, his grip tightening on the armrest. He didn’t need to explain himself, especially not to someone like Kenny. The audacity of the man still gets under his skin, even after all these years. But Levi knows better than to take the bait. “I'm surviving fine,” Levi mutters, his voice cold and clipped. He turns his head slightly, eyeing his uncle with a glare that would freeze most men in place, but Kenny only grins wider, clearly enjoying the discomfort Levi tries so hard to hide. “I have my shop, I don’t want blood money.”
“Yeah? Well, I wouldn’t be so sure of that. I mean, the way I see it, you ain’t exactly living large," Kenny says, tapping the neck of the bottle against his leg like a rhythm he’s got memorized. "Could use a little extra padding, if you catch my drift."
Levi huffs under his breath, a dry laugh escaping him. "I'm fine," he repeats, louder this time, not bothering to explain any further. The question, though, lingers in the back of his mind: how much longer can he keep doing this? How much longer can he stay out of the kind of deals Kenny’s offering?
Kenny’s eyes narrow, sizing him up, and for a moment, Levi feels the weight of his uncle’s scrutiny. The man knows Levi better than he lets on—knows his breaking points, knows what makes him tick. And that only makes Levi more defensive. The older man lets up a bit, sighing to himself and grumbling something Levi can’t quite make out. He removes his legs from the table, facing Levi head-on. “Listen, it’s not…that bloody, alright?”
“Sure,” Levi simply says, checking his watch. Two more hours to go. Dammit.
“It ain’t,” Kenny reaffirms, scooting toward the edge of his seat. He subtly looks around, as if afraid the small crew of the plane might be listening. “Just a tiny gig. Could help you out.”
“How many more times do I have to tell you no, old man?”
“As if you’re not gettin’ there your damn self, you little brat,” Kenny spits out. He huffs, taking out a crumpled-up sheet of newspaper from his back pocket and flattening it out onto the table.
Levi peers down, face indifferent. A few moments of silence pass with Levi expecting some sort of explanation. When none comes, he unfortunately takes the bait. “What?”
“See here,” Kenny taps a long finger onto the paper. “A…client of mine, you could say. Mr. Makoto Suzuki. Topshot back over there, heard of ‘im?”
Levi’s eyes flicker down to the paper, his stomach sinking at the mention of the name. He doesn’t want to show any sign of recognition, but he can feel the subtle tension rising in his chest. Makoto Suzuki. The name isn’t foreign to him, but it’s a name that brings too many memories—too many connections to things he’s tried to forget. Levi’s lips tighten into a thin line, but he says nothing, his gaze flickering back to the newspaper. “Yeah, I’ve heard of him,” Levi mutters. He’s been around long enough to know that the big players in the game—men like Makoto—always find their way into the darker corners of the world. “Anyone with a brain has.”
“Correct,” Kenny grins, his gold canine on display. “Well, Mr. Suzuki here has a very special package he holds oh so dear to his heart.” Kenny’s finger moves slightly over to the right, and Levi’s eyes follow. A young girl, maybe in her twenties. Smiling at the camera, displaying her pearly whites. Levi can make out the group that must’ve been hurdled around you and your father while the picture was taken. Makoto’s arm is around your waist in what appears to be a protective way. “His fine piece of a daughter.”
“Makoto’s daughter,” Levi says, the words coming out gruffly, like he’s testing the air. Of course, he knows who you and your father are. “Why are you showing me this?”
Kenny leans back, eyes gleaming with something Levi can’t decipher. He takes a moment, savoring the tension in the air before answering, his voice lowering to a near whisper. “Because her father’s paying a pretty penny to keep her pretty. Been buggin’ me about it for a while now, but I ain’t no babysitter.”
“Neither am I,” Levi scoffs, setting his glass down and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not taking anything, especially from people like them.”
Kenny’s eyes flicker with an almost predatory gleam as he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a near hiss. “You know how things work, Levi. Money talks. And Mr. Suzuki's got plenty of it. He's desperate. His daughter’s a political asset, no different than a pawn on a chessboard. But she’s got a problem—she’s too... distracting, if you catch my drift. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll see the opportunity here.”
Levi shakes his head, his jaw tightening as he stares at the picture, your smiling face glaring back at him. The thought of being involved in any situation with Makoto Suzuki’s daughter—especially in the way Kenny’s implying—turns his stomach. He’s fought his entire life to distance himself from this kind of world, from men like Makoto, who wield their power like a weapon and treat their own flesh and blood like assets. He snorts, his voice dripping with disdain. “I’m not a damn babysitter, Kenny. And I sure as hell don’t get mixed up in that kind of business. I’m a civilian now, it’s staying that way.”
Kenny’s grin widens, as if he’s been waiting for this exact response. He leans back in his seat, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge of the table. “That’s the problem, Levi,” he mutters, eyes narrowing. “You think you can just walk away from all of this. You think you’re done. But the world doesn’t work that way, not for people like you. You don’t just get to put your hands up and say, ‘I’m done,’ because someone like Suzuki? He doesn’t give a damn about your past. He sees what you can do, and he’ll make sure you know it.”
Levi’s eyes darken, his lips pressing into a thin line. He’s heard it before, the way people try to pull him back into the chaos. He’s been fighting it for years, but it’s always lurking just beneath the surface, waiting for the moment to strike. “I don’t give a damn what Suzuki thinks,” Levi mutters, his voice cold as steel. “You know what kind of man I am. I’m not some hired weapon anymore. I’m happy where I’m at now.”
Kenny laughs, a low, rasping sound that seems to crawl under Levi’s skin. “And yet, here we are, aren’t we? You’re still the same guy, Levi. You’re just pretending not to be. When the world’s out to get you, you can’t just sit on your hands and pray it’ll go away. You’ll need allies, whether you want ‘em or not.”
Levi clenches his fists, his nails biting into his palms. He wants to reach across the table and throttle Kenny, but he knows that wouldn’t change a damn thing. The man’s words ring too true. The world doesn’t let people like him go so easily. It’s a cold, unforgiving reality. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze still locked on the picture of you and your father. The idea of getting involved with Makoto Suzuki’s business makes his skin crawl. He’s been there and done that—used as a tool in someone else’s game. He refuses to go back.
“I’m not your guy for this,” Levi says, his voice unwavering, but the unease in his chest grows. “Find someone else to play your damn games.”
Kenny groans and rolls his eyes. “Stubborn lil’ thing, huh? It’s extra cash, Levi.”
“Does it look like I care?” Levi cooly replies. “I’m not doing it. He can get a clean Marleyan to do it.”
“What? Ya think that’s it? He won’t let you watch his daughter ‘cause you ain’t Marleyan?”
“Why wouldn’t it be? What smart man would employ someone who fought against his country to be up close and personal with his daughter? We’re still a devil to some, remember?”
Kenny leans forward again, his eyes gleaming with something Levi can’t quite place. The older man seems almost amused by Levi’s firm resistance, as if he’s testing a limit he already knows well. He taps the table once more, the sound cutting through the tension like a ticking clock. “You’re a real piece of work, Levi,” Kenny mutters with a smirk. “But you’re forgetting something. Mr. Suzuki’s desperate. And desperation… well, it makes people do things they wouldn’t usually consider. And in this case, what he’s offerin’ isn’t just money—it’s leverage.”
Levi freezes at the word "leverage." The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as his gaze snaps up to meet his uncle’s, suspicion and anxiety coiling tightly in his chest. “Leverage?” Levi repeats, voice low, barely above a whisper. He knows too well what that means—Kenny’s not talking about a job offer anymore. This is something bigger, darker.
Kenny’s grin widens, but it’s not a pleasant smile. It’s the grin of someone who knows exactly how to pull the strings. He leans in, his voice low, almost conspiratorial. “You ain’t gotta choose the game, Levi. You’re already in it. Suzuki’s got dirt. Big dirt. And if you don’t play nice, that dirt’s gonna find its way to your doorstep, sooner or later.”
Levi’s heart races as he absorbs the weight of Kenny’s words. He can feel the familiar weight of the past creeping back in, like a shadow he can’t shake. He’s fought so hard to stay out of this world—this world of manipulation, of dangerous men who make deals and break lives without a second thought. But it’s all starting to feel inescapable. “You’re saying if I don’t help him, he’ll use whatever he’s got on me against me?” Levi’s voice is steady, but there’s a tightness in his chest that betrays his growing unease. He feels like he’s already caught in the web—he’s just waiting for the final tug.
Kenny nods slowly, that sinister glint in his eye never leaving. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. He’s already been planting the chip in my damn ear about you. And you know better than anyone—someone like Suzuki? He don’t care what you’ve done or where you’ve been. You’re useful to him, Levi. You’ve always been useful. And now, you’re gonna be useful to his daughter.”
Levi’s fingers twitch involuntarily, a dark, suffocating feeling building in the pit of his stomach. He wants to scream, to smash the table between them, but he stays silent. His mind races, searching for any escape, any way out of this mess. “You can’t make me do this,” Levi says, his words low but firm. “I’m not going back. I’m not going to be anyone’s pawn.”
Kenny leans back in his seat, clicking his tongue. “You’re already a pawn, Levi. You just haven’t realized it yet. You’re surrounded by players who know how to move the pieces. You just happen to be the one they’re comin’ for.”
Levi feels his throat tighten, the cold reality of Kenny’s words hitting harder than he wants to admit. He’s trapped. No matter how far he tries to run, no matter how much he wants to be out of it, the world he’s left behind has a way of finding him. And now, it’s threatening to drag him back in. He scrubs a hand down his face.
“Think about it,” Kenny continues, his voice almost soothing, as if he’s offering advice. “You ain’t have to do much. Just keep an eye on Suzuki’s little girl. Protect her. Get a few hands dirty, but nothing that’ll land ‘ya in trouble. Think about the money. Think about what you can do with that money. Think about the doors it could open.”
Levi looks down at the picture again, at your smile, at the image of a life he knows he doesn’t belong in. But he knows his uncle is right about one thing—the world doesn’t let people like him go that easily. And maybe, just maybe, this isn’t as simple as walking away. The weight of the decision presses down on him like a lead weight. He wants to punch something, to refuse, to get off this plane, never look back and stay his sorry ass in Eldia. But the words get stuck in his throat.
“So what’s it gonna be?” Kenny asks, voice heavy with expectation.
Levi doesn’t respond right away. He stares out the window, the soft hum of the plane filling his ears, as the choice looms over him like a storm waiting to break.
The second the plane has landed and the door opens, he’s striding down the ramp. Mood soured and the whiskey does nothing but make him more adept to just how much of a damn headache his forsaken uncle. Two figures in the distance momentarily ease his grumpiness. They familiarly approach him.
“Levi! How was it?” Gabi asks first, striding forward to give him a tight hug around his waist.
“Careful,” he murmurs, though his hand pats lightly at her back. “Nothing interesting. What about you two? Held up well?”
“Sure did,” Falco responds, smiling. “Shop’s doing fine, no hiccups.”
Levi nods and hums in approval. Gabi removes her arms from him, just about to ask another question when Kenny’s scratchy voice breaks the atmosphere. “Oh, look at that. Forgot about these two monsters.” He approaches with a crooked smile, head tilting and leaning against Levi. “Huh, you both are smaller than I re—”
“Shut up,” Levi cuts him off, shrugging him off. “And don’t talk to them.”
Kenny lets out a bark of laughter, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, no need to get your panties in a twist,” he says, stepping back with an exaggerated sigh. “Just makin’ conversation.”
Levi ignores him, glancing back at Gabi and Falco, who exchange wary looks before Gabi’s nose wrinkles in annoyance. “Who’s this old man?” she asks, crossing her arms.
“Just an annoying bastard,” Levi mutters.
Kenny smirks. “You wound me, shorty.”
Levi clicks his tongue, already regretting letting Kenny tag along. “You’re not staying long, are you?”
Kenny grins, all teeth and trouble. “Nah, just for a drink or two. Maybe I’ll even stop by the shop, see what kinda scam you’re runnin’.”
Levi’s eye twitches, but Falco steps in before the argument escalates. “We should head back. You look tired, Levi.”
He is tired—tired of this, of the headache that is Kenny, of the weight pressing on his shoulders. He casts one last glance at the man before exhaling sharply. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Kenny just chuckles, watching as the trio walks ahead, hands in his pockets, eyes gleaming with something unreadable. He follows at a distance, whistling a tune that grates on Levi’s ears. But he doesn’t say anything.
“Did you bring us anything back, Levi?” Gabi asks, looking up at him.
Levi exhales through his nose, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. “Tch. What do I look like, Santa?”
Gabi pouts, nudging his side. “Come on, not even a little souvenir?”
Falco chuckles. “I told you he wouldn’t.”
Levi rolls his eyes, but after a brief pause, he reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a small, neatly wrapped package. He tosses it to Gabi, who catches it with a surprised blink.
Her face lights up. “Wait—you actually got me something?”
“Just open it,” Levi grumbles, ignoring the way Kenny is still whistling behind them.
Gabi rips the paper off, revealing a sleek pocketknife with an intricate engraving on the handle. She whistles, running her fingers over it. “This is so cool!”
Falco’s eyes widen. “A-A knife, Levi? Really?”
“She’s gotta learn how to defend herself,” Levi mutters. “Can’t have her relying on you all the time.”
Gabi grins, flipping the blade open and inspecting it. “I love it. Thanks, Levi.”
Levi shrugs, glancing at Falco. “And for you.” He reaches into his coat again and hands over a small box.
Falco hesitates before taking it, opening it carefully. Inside is a simple but finely crafted wristwatch. He blinks, then looks up at Levi, eyes wide. “This is… really nice.”
“Better than being late all the damn time,” Levi says, side-eyeing him.
Falco rubs the back of his neck, chuckling. “I guess I deserve that.”
Kenny lets out an exaggerated sigh behind them. “Damn, no gift for your dear ol’ uncle? That hurts, Levi.”
Levi doesn’t even turn around. “Your gift is me not punching you in the face.”
Kenny cackles, and Gabi snorts as she tucks her knife into her pocket. Falco just shakes his head, slipping the watch onto his wrist. Despite his exhaustion, Levi feels the tension in his shoulders ease just a little. The walk to the tea shop only takes about ten minutes. Falco takes the keys from his pocket and unlocks the door, allowing the group to step in. Kenny looks around, nodding slowly with a small whistle. “Cozy in here.”
Levi glances around, already feeling a sense of peace settle in the small, warmly lit space. The gentle scent of freshly brewed tea fills the air, mixing with the earthy tones of wood and herbs. The walls are lined with shelves of tea jars, some familiar, others he hasn’t seen before. A few potted plants sit near the windows, softening the atmosphere.
“Yeah, it’s nice,” Falco says, setting his bag down behind the counter and turning to face the group. “We’ve been getting a lot more regulars lately. Gabi’s been keeping things running smoothly.”
Gabi grins proudly, twirling a strand of her hair. “What can I say? I’ve got skills.” She gestures to the chairs by the window. “Feel free to make yourselves comfortable. I’ll brew some fresh tea for you.”
“Not a tea kinda man,” Kenny waves her off.
“I meant Levi,” she raises a brow, looking Kenny up and down before going back around the counter. Falco follows her. His eye twitches, huffing to himself and turning to see Levi sitting in one of the open chairs with a small grunt. “Damn kid’s a smart-ass.”
“Good thing she is.”
Kenny sits beside Levi, tapping his foot against the floor. “Alright, about the—”
“Not here,” Levi is quick to shut him down, sending the older man a certain look. “Hold on.” Gabi comes back with Levi’s desired tea, along with Falco setting down a small report of how things have been since he’s been gone. Levi nods and thanks them quietly, sipping the tea. “You two, head outside for a second.”
Gabi and Falco simultaneously tilt their heads in confusion. But Falco speaks up first. “What? But we haven’t even had time to—”
“Outside.”
Gabi opens her mouth to protest, but Falco quickly cuts in with a muttered, “We’ll be outside,” before she can say anything more. The two exchange a glance, clearly confused, but they gather their things without further questioning. Gabi gives Levi an uncertain look before following Falco out the door.
Levi waits until the door shuts behind them before turning his attention back to Kenny. The air between them tightens instantly, the tension thickening as Levi sets his tea down on the table with a soft clink. He hesitates for a few seconds, unsure if he should entertain his idiotic uncle. But he has a feeling that no matter what, he’ll be a thorn in his side. “How much?”
Kenny grins. “Confidential, of course. Until you accept the job.”
Levi’s gaze hardens. “I’m not a fucking bodyguard, Kenny. I’m not some hired muscle, and I’m definitely not interested in babysitting some spoiled brat—no offense to her, but that’s not my scene.”
Kenny’s eyes gleam with amusement, the kind that makes Levi this much closer to punching him in the face. “That’s exactly why they need you. You’re not the kind of guy who takes orders, and that’s what she needs. Someone who can think for himself, who won’t just bow to her family’s whims. You know how it is in that world, Levi. People like her, they’re walking targets.”
Levi’s eyes flicker briefly to the door, as though expecting the others to walk back in, but the room is still empty. He rubs his temple, trying to keep his frustration in check. “And what makes you think I’d give a damn about protecting some rich girl? I’m not in the business of charity, especially not for people like her.”
Kenny leans forward, his voice lowering, almost coaxing. “You’re in the business of keeping your head above water, right? Getting by. This job? It’s a chance for you to cash in. You’re good at what you do, and I think you’ll find this… lucrative. Plus, you know it’s not asking for much. Just a little loyalty to the Suzuki family.”
Levi’s fingers twitch, the temptation gnawing at him. He’s always been a pragmatist, and this… this could solve a lot of problems, not just for him but for the people he cares about. But Kenny knows that too. “You’re asking for too much.” Levi finally meets his uncle’s gaze, his voice sharp, but controlled. “And you know I don’t work on other people’s terms.”
Kenny’s smile falters for a split second, but then he leans back again, his expression returning to that smug, confident air. “You’re still thinking like the old Levi. You’ve got a chance here to step up and make a real name for yourself besides ‘the strongest.’ You don’t have to play by their rules, you just need to keep her alive and out of trouble. It’s not that hard.”
However, Levi is still finding it hard to just give in so easily. He’s never been a bodyguard, but is being a soldier that much different? Just protect, right? However, he remembers your father; how couldn’t he? The little meeting that was held after the bomb Eldia dropped on Marley that led to a cease fire not too long after. He remembers the way he regarded him and his peers with concealed mirth in his eyes, clenched hands that made it known how much he despised losing and coming to terms with ‘the devils’. He hadn’t trusted him then, and he doesn’t trust him now. So why the hell is this same man trying to employ him?
He’s never met you, of course. Levi isn’t much to delve into media or the higher-ups. Just simple bits of you here and there is what Levi is accustomed to. All he knows about you is what he’s seen in passing—brief news clips, vague mentions, a face in the crowd of the powerful, the kind of people he’d rather ignore. He doesn’t pay attention to the higher-ups or the media, and certainly not to the rich and pampered. That’s always been a world Levi keeps his distance from.
Kenny, sensing his niece’s hesitance, softens up just a tiny bit. “Listen, why don’t you come with me tonight? Supposed to be meetin’ up with the man himself at some club; maybe you can get a feel of him there?”
Levi’s expression hardens, and he mutters under his breath, “I’ve never trusted him.”
Kenny, watching him carefully, seems to understand the unspoken question. “I get it. You’ve got a history with that man, and I can’t blame you for that. But this isn’t about him, kid. It’s about you—your future. You could save up for yourself and find a better place than some shitty, one bed apartment. If you stick to what you know, you’ll always be stuck in the past.”
Levi looks up, meeting Kenny’s eyes. There’s no warmth in his stare, only cold calculation. “What’s the catch, Kenny? You want me to babysit a rich girl to what? To get closer to him?”
Kenny holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Nothing like that, Levi. I told you, this is about keeping her alive. That’s all. The rest will follow. But you’ve gotta see it for yourself. You think you can read people? Come with me tonight. We’re meeting with your old friend at a club, and you can get a feel for the man.”
Levi’s gaze flickers toward the window, the streets outside bustling with life, and the idea of stepping into that world, even for a moment, gnaws at him. He’s been out of that circle for a long time—he doesn’t want to dive back into it. He enjoys his civilian life. But Kenny’s offer is tempting. Too tempting. He could get a sense of what was really going on and see if it was worth his time or if it was just another trap. Levi stands up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He doesn’t say anything at first, his back to Kenny as he pulls his coat tighter around his frame. The weight of the decision is pressing down on him, but he knows that if he turns Kenny down now, the man won’t stop. He’s relentless.
“Fine,” Levi says, his voice steady. “I’ll go. But don’t expect me to walk away from this thinking it’s anything more than a job. And I’m not playing nice.”
Kenny’s grin returns, more satisfied now as he stands. “That’s all I’m asking, Levi. Just keep your head straight. We’re in for a long game here, and you’ve got a front-row seat.”
Levi doesn’t respond. He understands he’s walking into unknown territory, and he doesn’t know if he’s ready for it. But one thing is for sure—he’s going to find out what kind of man your father really is. And if he’s going to protect you, he’ll need to know exactly what—or who he’s up against.
A high-end gentlemen’s club was not what he was expecting. Tucked behind an unsuspecting bar, the neon blue cursive letters that spell out “The Silk Rose”. They flicker softly in the darkness of the not-so-early night, casting an almost dreamy-like glow onto the concrete below. The street outside is quiet, unassuming—nothing to hint at the kind of opulence that lies within. Levi eyes the sign, then glances at Kenny with mild irritation.
“This your idea of a professional meeting?” he mutters.
Kenny just smirks, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat. “You’d be surprised how much business gets done between overpriced scotch and soft lighting. Besides,” he adds with a wink, “Suzuki likes a certain… ambiance.”
Levi scoffs, and the scowl on his face deepens. Still, he follows Kenny inside, the brute bouncer at the door giving them a once-over before stepping aside wordlessly.
Inside, the contrast is immediate. Velvet-draped walls, soft jazz humming low over the speakers, and golden chandeliers that twinkle like stars overhead. It smells like expensive perfume and power. The kind of place meant to impress men who’ve forgotten what it’s like to hear the word no.
Women in silk dresses that barely pass for clothing drift across the room like ghosts, each movement precise, curated. But the staff aren’t the only ones dressed to kill. Men in tailored suits lounge in leather booths, cigars in hand, speaking in hushed tones. This is a playground for the elite, the dangerous, and the untouchable. Hushed conversations, soft laughs, teasing touches shared between those around aren’t what makes Levi’s nose crinkle with distaste. It’s the look in the men’s eyes that does. The way they eye every woman as if they are a toy to be played with—as if they’re the prey. No doubt the women here have caught on to the predatory nature the men wordlessly exude, yet they’re still here. In a sense, it almost begins to remind him of his mother.
Though he’d like to think she had at least a little more self-respect.
Kenny leads him toward a private room upstars and in the back, past thick velvet curtains. “Suzuki’s already here. Try not to look like you’re gonna kill someone.”
Levi’s jaw ticks. “No promises.”
Two tall men are standing, dressed in all black suits, on either side of the velvet red curtains that separate the wolves from their leader. The one on the right steps up, chest puffed out. He eyes both Kenny and Levi before speaking. “This area’s blocked off. Head back down.”
Kenny doesn’t break stride. He simply reaches into his coat, flashing something—an emblem, a card, maybe even just the weight of his name. Whatever it is, it’s enough to make the guard hesitate.
“He’s expecting us,” Kenny says, voice smooth but with an edge that suggests he’s not in the mood to repeat himself. “Now step aside.”
The guard’s jaw tightens, and he glances toward the other man, who gives a small nod. With a reluctant sigh, the first one steps back, tugging the curtain aside.
Kenny winks at him on the way in. “Atta boy.”
Levi follows his uncle, his boots nearly silent against the plush carpet. His eyes flicker over the details of the room like a sniper zeroing in. He can feel it—every inch of this place is designed to disarm, to distract. And yet, his guard is higher than ever. The private room is dimly lit, the atmosphere intimate, suffocating. A low table sits in the center, encircled by deep sapphire couches that seem to swallow anyone who sits in them. The scent of aged whiskey, cigar smoke, and some cloying cologne hits his nose instantly.
And there he is.
Makoto Suzuki sits like a man who’s owned the room since birth, legs crossed, one arm draped lazily over the back of the couch. His suit is dark navy, custom, his tie just loose enough to suggest control disguised as ease. His grey hair is styled neatly back, and his auburn eyes are trained on the swirling dark liquid in his glass. There's a woman perched next to him, draped across the couch more like decoration than companion. She doesn't even look up. There’s four more of his henchmen standing beside the couch, two more seated at the tiny table in the corner engaged in a small game of cards.
At their arrival, they all look up.
Makoto’s gaze lifts slowly, and when it lands on Levi, something in it shifts. Calculating. Amused. Maybe even mildly impressed. He doesn’t stand, of course. Men like him don’t need to.
“Kenny,” he greets smoothly, lifting his glass in a faux toast. “And the infamous Levi Ackerman.” His voice is like smoke—polished, poisonous. Makoto gestures toward the open couch across from him, entirely unfazed by the cold stare he's receiving. “You’re taller than I remember.”
Levi doesn’t blink or sit. “You’re exactly how I remember.”
Kenny stifles a chuckle, plopping himself down on the couch and pouring himself a drink. “Let’s keep it civil, boys.”
Makoto lets the jab roll off him like mist off marble. He leans forward slightly, that same damned calm expression etched across his face. “So, Kenny, how’ve you been?”
Kenny exhales like he’s just settled into his favorite recliner, legs spread, glass already swirling in his hand. “Busy. Making deals. Babysitting this one,” he jerks a thumb toward Levi without looking at him. “Same old.”
Makoto’s smile twitches—just enough to acknowledge the remark without really responding to it. His attention, however, doesn’t drift far from Levi. The kind of look a lion gives a stray dog: amused, but watchful. “And yet, you dragged him here. Which means he knows he’s not just here for the ambiance.”
Levi still hasn’t sat. He doesn’t intend to—not yet. The air in this room is thick with the kind of arrogance that turns his stomach. This man, this entire place, reeks of money and power layered like cologne over something rotting beneath.
Kenny, unbothered, tops off his glass and throws back a sip before answering. “Told you I’d find you someone. Someone you could trust to keep your girl safe.”
Makoto’s brow lifts, gaze sharpening. “My daughter is not some damsel in distress.”
Levi’s voice cut in, low and steady, “Then why does she need a bodyguard?”
Makoto’s eyes narrow just slightly. Not insulted—curious. Testing him. “Not many people speak to me like that, Mr. Ackerman.”
Levi doesn’t flinch. “Not many people interest me enough to bother speaking to at all.”
There’s a long pause, heavy but not quite tense—just enough to let the power dynamics settle. The woman beside Makoto finally shifts after he makes a subtle shrug of his shoulder, and she quietly excuses herself as she rises and disappears through a side door, unnoticed by anyone but Levi.
Kenny raises a brow and shoots Levi a warning glance that reads behave, but he doesn’t say a word.
Makoto finally leans back, the lazy smile returning to his lips. “I don’t trust easily. You know this. But your name,” he gestures vaguely in the air, “it still carries weight. Especially with them.” His eyes flicker with meaning—whether it’s to the press, politicians, or war-hardened enemies, it’s unclear. Probably all of the above. “My daughter is… unique. She’s sweet, but not stupid. Pretty, but not a pushover. She doesn’t know what’s circling her yet, and that’s exactly why she needs protection. She knows her role, and I intend to have her keep playing that.”
Levi folds his arms. “Then hire a soldier.”
“I did,” Makoto replies simply. “I hired you.”
Something sharp passes between them. Understanding, maybe. Or recognition.
Kenny sighs, slumping further into the couch. “You gonna stand all night like a coat rack, or you gonna sit and listen?”
Levi eyes the couch like it might bite, then slowly moves to perch on the edge—not relaxed, not open. Always ready. His stare stays locked on Makoto.
Makoto studies him in turn, then finally gives a small, tight smile. “You’ve killed a lot of people, haven’t you?”
“So have you.”
The smile lingers, but it doesn’t quite reach Makoto’s eyes. “Then we’ll get along just fine.”
A silence settles again. Somewhere outside the door, the jazz track shifts to something slower, more sultry. Time continues as if the world doesn’t realize two predators just agreed to circle each other, for now. Then Makoto raises his glass again, eyes gleaming. “To the devil you know.”
Kenny chuckles, clinks his glass. Levi doesn't move. He just stares. Because to him, the devils have always worn suits like this one.
“How much?” He finally asks.
Makoto leisurely sips his drink, setting the glass onto the table between them.
He leans back, fingers steepling loosely in front of him, head tilted slightly like he’s just been waiting for Levi to ask. “How much is her life worth to me?” he muses aloud, as if the question is more philosophical than transactional. “More than any sum I could ever offer. But you, Mr. Ackerman—you’re not a man who wastes time with sentiment.”
Levi’s silence confirms it.
Makoto chortles. “Ten thousand a week. A private penthouse suite. Round-the-clock access to every resource you’d need—transport, intel, weapons, contacts. And no leash. You work how you want, answer to no one but me.”
Kenny whistles low beside him. “That’s one hell of a package, even for you.”
Levi doesn’t look impressed. “Sounds like you expect a war.”
The atmosphere is a live wire—thrumming between them, sparking with old blood and new stakes. It’s broken by Makoto rising from his seat, his men following. He straightens out his suit jacket and makes a motion with his fingers. “Come, I’ll show you the prize right now.”
And Levi finds himself reluctantly following along like a dog, and Kenny too. The group of men exit from the curtains, heading back down the spiraling staircase. The music softens as they descend the staircase, like the club itself is aware something heavier just entered the room. Without a word, the other guests make way for the group, some women sending flirtatious waves or doe-eyed smiles towards Makoto. Levi’s eyes flicker across the patrons who glance up, some pretending not to stare, others openly gawking. Power like Makoto’s always draws attention, and the entourage trailing behind only confirms it. Levi hates this part—the theatrics, the display, the illusion of untouchable grandeur. But he plays along, stoic as ever, even as they cut through the low hum of conversation like a blade through silk.
Makoto slides into the center seat at the lavish round table like a king returning to his throne. The plush leather molds around him effortlessly, his posture regal but relaxed. Levi takes the seat to his right, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the dramatics. Kenny flops down on the left like he’s done this a thousand times—which, knowing him, he probably has.
The men behind them form a wall of polished muscle and sharp gazes, stationed with silent obedience.
Makoto signals to a woman behind the bar with a simple glance, and almost instantly, she nods and disappears into the back. Levi’s gaze tracks the interaction, narrowing slightly.
He doesn’t have to wait long.
Only moments later, the crowd parts—slow and smooth—as you step out from behind the deep red curtain, flanked by two club hostesses who clearly pale in comparison. You're wearing a purple satin number, delicate and barely-there, its shimmer catching the warm light in all the wrong—and right—ways. Your hair is styled with effortless elegance, and you walk like you’ve never tripped a day in your life. Or like someone taught you never to look like you did.
Levi doesn’t breathe for a second. Not out of awe, but surprise.
He wasn’t expecting this. Well, you surely look…different.
You don’t look at the men who part like waves for you. You don’t even glance toward Makoto until you’re at the table, offering only a faint smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Father,” you say smoothly, voice soft but clear.
Makoto gives a pleased nod. “Darling,” he murmurs, like the word itself is another performance.
You look to the man beside him—Kenny—and offer a subtle tilt of your head, polite, reserved. Then your eyes slide over to Levi. Your gaze lingers.
And Levi… feels it.
Not just the scrutiny. But the weight of expectation. Of curiosity. Maybe even challenge.
“Having a good time?” Your father asks as you lean down, turning your head slightly so he can plant a reverent kiss on your cheek. “Mingling and all that, yes?”
You chuckle, red-stained lips curling upwards in a soft way. “Oh, yes, father. Of course I’ve been. I’ve made friends with some of those you've asked me to.”
There’s a silent look in your eyes—like you and your father are telepathically communicating. Levi’s eyes barely stray from you, forcing himself to get familiar with his charge’s expressions. Your father hums in approval, nodding. “Good girl.”
You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, head tilting. “Though…maybe some of my friends are having a bit…too much fun.”
Makoto follows your line of sight toward a semi-rowdy group of older men. Drained glasses littering their table as one they laugh boisterously at their own jokes. Your father’s jaw ticks slightly, giving three of his men a tiny nod in the group’s direction.
The command is silent but understood. The three guards move swiftly—like shadows trained in courtesy and intimidation—drifting toward the group of men without needing to speak. Their presence alone sobers the laughter, draining it from the air like a sudden draft of cold wind. The drunkest among them nearly chokes on his drink, sputtering apologies before anyone even lays a hand on him. Levi doesn’t miss the shift. The way your lips press together just slightly. Like you're both amused and weary of what your father’s influence can do.
Makoto turns back to you, eyes glittering with a sharp kind of pride. “You’ve always had a good eye.”
You shrug lightly, folding your hands in front of you like you're nothing more than an accessory at the table. “I just like keeping things...elegant.”
It’s then that Makoto gestures toward Levi with the casual air of someone introducing a pet he’s particularly fond of. “This is Mr. Levi Ackerman. He’ll be looking after you from now on.”
You finally turn to face him fully.
Levi meets your gaze, this time with intention. The color in your eyes is sharp, observant—more calculating than your painted smile suggests. It’s a quick scan, top to bottom, and Levi feels it again. The test. Like you're waiting to see what kind of man your father’s put in front of you this time. “I see,” you murmur, tone unreadable. Then, with graceful attachment, you sit at the table—choosing the empty lap of Levi himself. He stiffens in surprise, his initial instinct urging him to push you off. Your sweet scent invades his nostrils instantly. However, he withstands it, deciding he wouldn’t like to deal with the consequences as of now. “You like wine, Mr. Ackerman?” you ask lightly, pouring yourself a glass from the bottle that was already waiting.
Levi doesn’t answer right away. His eyes study you, more than the wine, more than your dress. Trying to read between your lines. Trying to decide if you’re amused by all this. “I don’t drink,” he replies flatly.
“Oh, what a shame. This is the finest liquor in all of Marley.” You pout, bringing the rim of the glass to your lips. Your eyes don’t stray from his as you indulge, licking your lips clean when you bring it away. “My father must’ve really hired such a resolute man.” You chuckle, leaning forward slightly and sending your father a subtle glance.
“As resolute as there is.” Makoto huffs in amusement.
Makoto’s pride crackles in the air like a cigar ember burning low—hot, glowing, dangerous.
Levi doesn’t respond to the praise. He just sits there, solid and unsmiling, posture stiff beneath the soft weight of you in his lap. He can feel the way you effortlessly carry yourself. You wear your charm like a silk veil—delicate and graceful.
You swirl the wine in your glass, voice lilting as you speak again. “Will he be sleeping in my room too?”
Makoto chuckles low, slow. “Only if you give him reason to.”
Now it’s Levi’s turn to give your father a look. He almost wants to blurt out the obvious question of why he’s allowing you to act like this in front of him. Why he seems completely okay with a hypothetical situation of some man you just met sleeping in his daughter’s room. But instead, he’s joking about it—going along with it, enabling it.
Do you usually act like this with men?
Kenny lets out a bark of laughter at that. You glance back at Levi, brows lifting. “Do you take orders well, Mr. Ackerman?”
He stares back at you, unflinching. “Only from the ones I respect.”
You hum, intrigued but unshaken. “I suppose we’ll see if I earn that.”
The moment hangs there—heavy, stretched taut like wire. Then you slide off him in one smooth motion, as if the whole thing was just a test. A show of dominance in velvet gloves. You cross your legs and lean back in your seat beside him, your posture still elegant. The toe of your heel nonchalantly brushes against his calf, up and down.
Makoto raises his glass in a lazy toast, gaze moving between you and Levi. “To new arrangements,” he declares.
You and Kenny echo the sentiment, a sweet giggle falling from your lips. Glasses clink. Wine swirls. The club resumes its slow, seductive pulse around them—but Levi knows something in the air has shifted.
This wasn’t just a job anymore.
This was theater. A powder keg. And he was now sitting in the front row, watching it smolder.
And the woman sitting beside him—who had moments ago treated his lap like a throne—now looks like a statue carved from something more fragile than stone. Still, poised, but not entirely present.
Levi glances at you from the corner of his eye.
You're watching the club floor now, eyes half-lidded, fingers idly tracing the rim of your wine glass. You laugh at something Makoto says, soft and sweet, but Levi hears how hollow it is. Like you’ve told that laugh to show up on cue too many times. And as he leans back in his chair, arms crossed loosely, Levi’s thoughts crawl.
Makoto didn’t hire a bodyguard for your safety. Not really.
He hired a leash.
But Levi Ackerman doesn’t do leashes—not for long.
For your event, I’d love to have my boy Levi & the prompt: “Don't look at them, look at me."
I’d love for this to be canon.
Levi gets a serious injury in the field for the first time and You can’t keep your relationship a secret anymore from the Scouts while Levi fights oncoming unconsciousness.
You just want to comfort Levi and be there for your baby before he gets the medic, talkng him through it and keeping him with you. If he mentioned “it hurts,” I will cry. Bonus points.🥲
Levi has fear in his eyes for the first time in his life and he just needs You to save him.🥹
so you and i sorta talked and to those of you apart from alla reading, we settled on recreating the after-effects of the thunderspear incident! this isn't my best but i do hope you sorta like it? focused more on the feelings rather than dialogue.
w/c: 3,842
content and warnings: descriptions of drowning, self-hatred and shame, and canon-typical gore/injuries. Slight canon-divergence in the sense that I wrote Levi with a stomach injury on top of his face being slashed open. Implied secret relationship. Reader goes berserk at Floch momentarily but i don't blame them tbh.
The soul of the heavens arrives in generous pellets of water. In downpours this heavy, one might feel cleansed and humbled. The mud on the ground is putted, washed clean of any footprints.
The crashing and roaring waves of the river – with no thanks to the rain making and pushing and pulling so merciless – are no less inviting than the pure Titan transformation he spots for a split second before his brain slows to a sudden halt. His eyes are shut as he's airborne, unable to brace himself.
There is a crash upon the impact: the impact of Levi being catapulted into the river. It's a heavy blow, he feels, and suddenly he's still; in limbo.
The water is murkier underneath than the surface. He feels it seeping in, keeping him snug as he plummets further. The dull ache in his right hand is gone.
He sinks further. It's slow, stagnant.
He feels like he's rotting now. The comforting lull, the darkness all around… It was eerily hypnotic and he feels his heart slow.
Death, right now, seemed so inviting.
I failed you Erwin and Hange, he says as he falls.
There's a feeling of decay building within him. His limbs feel heavier than a few moments ago.
[F/n], I… I failed you, too, he admits. He opens his eyes a bit at this realization.
Drowning was such a bitch of a way to go. Panic, fear, and then nothing. The stray hairs of his undercoat float up. Absent-mindedly, he reaches for something. He thinks he sees a hand – your hand – reaching for him; he wants to see your hand reaching for him.
[F/n], please…
Who's he begging to? More specifically, why was he begging to you? He's so far down below, he's a deadman.
He reaches forward some more. Is that the light of the sun he sees, or is this the light people talk about as you're about to cross over?
Death, right now, seemed so inviting… but not today. Not for him.
Not yet!
Levi does not get to rest easy.
He feels his lungs seize and he gasps. His throat burns and eyes snaps open, blearily blinking through grime and dirt. With whatever he could muster and before his lungs give out, he starts to swim upwards. It’s a struggle, even for someone like him, to try to swim in these conditions.
He heaves in massive strokes once he breaks the surface and thankfully, he’s not too far from the banks of the river. He fists onto one of the reeds sprouted by the river’s edge and pulls himself ashore. He braces his weight to the heels of his palms, but he buckles. He catches himself in time and lands on his back.
Everything feels heavy and dirty and wrong. He raises his right hand to dab at his face, and– oh.
His lips part. His index and middle finger– where did they–?
Before he can even contemplate where the fingers may have fallen to, he’s clutching his stomach in pain. Bile is building up in the back of his throat. Even as he lies dead still, blood is gushing out of whatever arteries were severed in great surges. Every time he blinks to try to clear his vision, his right eye will not adjust.
He tries again, and again, and again.
Eventually, it all clicks to him.
Defeated – he truly feels defeated. Zeke was probably long gone. Even if he was nearby, it'd make no difference; Levi's in bits, his ears are ringing and drowning out everything and he is in no position to fight.
Still, he relents and tries again to prop himself up again for he can't let Erwin down like this. It has been four painstakingly slow years and he was so fucking close, and it blew right up in his face. Literally.
He failed Erwin, again; he let the Beast Titan slip away, again.
I failed, I failed, I failed…
With shaking hands and shuddering breaths, he is left to lie there in his misery.
I'm sorry…
His eyes snap shut and he gasps in deep strokes. This is the closest he has ever been to Death's doors since he was a kid. Is this what it feels like to be left behind while you are too weak to go on?
I'm… terrified, he admits. Letting out another choked sob as he succumbs to his fragile emotional state, Terrified of dying and of dying so slowly, terrified of letting people down again. Terrified of leaving you behind in this crazy, unsafe and new world, and that you may have to navigate it without him.
But he can't just leave you behind… not when there's still a slim chance he can still push through this. He can't just toss in the towel now – he still has to fulfil Erwin's final order.
He just can't help it that he's tired.
Even so, he refuses to close his eyes.
He will get through this.
For you. For Erwin. For Hange. For the kids. People are counting on him; depending on him.
For a while the world stills and slows, though, and as a harsh gust blows through the coniferous trees, he swears he can hear your agonized screams.
.
.
[F/n]...
.
.
[F/n], please…
.
.
I'm so terrified…
.
.
It all hurts…
.
.
He briefly comes to his senses when he feels warm hands cup his bloody cheeks. At this point, he's running out of energy to keep himself conscious. He can just breathe and stay calm. But when the fingers gently shake and rub away some of the grime from his face, he focuses his gaze a bit. He hears agonized sobs piercing the air.
A gasp. "...[F/n]?" He blinks more, surely he's dreaming.
He snapped his gaze over to the footsteps he hears.
Jaegerists.
"Don't look at them. Look at me." You whispered hastily, tapping at his cheek as if to keep him awake. "Levi… Oh, Levi…"
It was such a sobering sight to see Levi Ackerman like this. What could have happened… He looked like death. You hurriedly pressed two fingers to the pulse point on his neck.
Slow and shallow.
You continued to whimper, silently begging to the goddesses above – would they help you now?
Hange rushes up beside you, a hand on your back as they move to assess him. You bury your eyes in your hands, unable to stay remotely professional.
Any more theatrics and Hange might find out about you two, after all. And what would that mean for the Jaegerists? A close association to Humanity's Strongest? That didn't spell good news.
You hear footsteps behind you.
"Is that Captain Levi?"
Fucking Floch, traitorous bastard. What could he possibly want? You peer up behind you and your eyes zero in on the shotgun in his hand.
No way, he wouldn't–
"Heh, I don't know what happened but we're lucky it did. The biggest threat we faced is lying in a bloody heap," he said.
A soldier beside Floch stepped forward, clearly very eager to use his shotgun. "We should put one in his head just in case."
You gasped and immediately rose to your feet. Adrenaline surged followed by a swift kick and the man was disarmed, shotgun kicked far out of reach. You reach for his arm and twist it behind his back and just as you go to bend it:
"There's no need, he was caught in a thunderspear explosion at point blank range. It shredded his guts… killed him instantly…"
The soldier who was once at your mercy is dropped and you fall to your knees opposite Hange. You rest your hand an inch above his mouth. Strange; for a dead man, he was breathing semi-regularly. That's when Hange gave you the quickest look; had you blinked, you would have missed it.
Stay quiet, their eyes seemed to say.
"Floch!" a Jaegerist cries out.
You and Hange snap your heads to the commotion, the strange sight unfolding has you both stunned silent. There was a small class Titan probably no more than thirty yards away, hunched over as if in pain and steam that is normally excreted from a dead titan is being sucked back in.
This had to be an abnormal.
"Is it disappearing? Did it die?" Floch cried out, still holding his weapon from before. Though it was not like bullets would do much against a Titan anyway.
"No. Titans don't normally suck in steam like that when they disappear." Hange replied.
Eventually, the Titan's carcass did break down and evaporate. Rays of light shone through the clouds, like spotlights shining down on what was to be unveiled. You heard a rattled breath pass through Levi's lips as a figure fell unceremoniously to the ground.
Your teeth gnashed together at the sight of Zeke standing before you. You don't know how, but Zeke was responsible for Levi's grave injuries; Levi wouldn't get this injured by mishandling a Thunderspear by himself.
The Jaegerists stare in shock while Hange turns to face you. You see them stare past you and towards the river. You quickly get the message.
While Levi is physically unable to protest as he is plunged into the icy cold river, his body screams out in pain. The murky water seeping into his injuries did him no favours.
The swift current takes Hange and him along; they expertly swim with the swift pull of the river.
Amidst the crashing waves, Levi cocks his head to the side trying to see what you'd do.
Waiting for you.
*****
It's in the evening by the time you find Hange again. They had mouthed a few numbers to you before they dove into the river with Levi. You made a mental note at the time to remember, but you initially didn't understand. Once they were far out of sight, it clicked: Hange was telling you coordinates of the map you two had followed to get here. Coordinates of where they'd take him.
Cryptic, but clever; that was Hange in two words.
There was a clearing in the forest where they laid Levi down. By the time you had arrived, they unfolded a spare blanket on the ground for him to lie on, and another laid over him to keep him warm.
Hange worked in silence to get the bleeding on his face under control. It was obvious his right eye would never work again, which was a shame. His right eye once the colour of liquid mercury now was bloodied and had a milky hue to it.
Hange had asked for mostly silence but as the situation settled, you two began to talk a bit more. Good thing for you, you could hardly stop rocking back and forth as your mind raced.
"Is he going to be okay?" you blurted out.
Hange looked at you anf back down to him. "Nobody would have survived something like that, normally. But that is it to say the Ackermans aren't built like the rest of us. He'll be fine, but... He won't be doing any fighting anytime soon."
You can only nod as you watch Hange expertly stitch up. Your eyes continued to well with unshed tears every time you looked over at him.
If only you had rode a little faster.
If only you had convinced him harder in trying to stay with him the past month.
If only you had searched the Jaegerists harder and inspected the wine...
It's not like you'd have known.
Admist your introspection, Hange spoke. "So... how long?"
"How long what?"
"How long have you two been seeing each other. Romantically, I mean."
Shit. Were you two going to be in trouble? No, hopefully not. Hange was one of you guys' closest friends. You had done your best to keep it under wraps, but as the war drew closer and closer, perhaps you two let some thing slip due to the sheer exhaustion of everything going on in the background.
"How did you know?"
"I'm not that stupid. But, if you must know... I always suspected something."
You gulp, but don't say anything.
Hange further clarifies: "It was your reaction to his injuries; you're a person who can normally stay reasonably composed. It was also the way Levi shifted beneath me when he heard you. And while his face was all bloody and battered, he... looked at you in a way I have never seen him look at someone before."
You nod. You figure it might be alright to tell them now. It wasn't as if you couldn't trust Hange – there was no one you trusted more after Levi – but it was purely so that there would be no outward bias and favouritism from Levi or you.
But also, because Levi was so vital to humanity's survival and victory – he couldn't afford to be chained down. As Humanity's Strongest, his duty was to humanity before it would ever be to you. But when he was just Levi? Was Levi allowed to be selfish, especially when the war was nearly over?
"A few years, around the start of 850 or so. Look, Hange–"
"--For what it's worth, I don't object," Hange interrupted. They continued to work on Levi's stitches. "I know people aren't meant to date superiors, but there is no one better suited for him than you. Look after him, okay?"
You blinked and sat back on your haunches. It was the first time that day you weren't craning your neck over to look him. Instead, you fixated on the bespectacled brunette.
"'Look after him, okay?' Hange, what do you–"
"...I just feel like this is it for me."
That was uttered so quietly, it was as if they were confessing a sin.
You're not sure if that was something you were meant to hear or not. Your lips parted and you blinked, owlishy. "Hange, no... What are you–?"
They are very quick to shut down whatever questions you had about their uncharacteristically morbid disposition. "Can you go check that we aren't being pursued? I had that we're just squatting here and there could be more Jaegerists looking for us."
Oh, you want to press further. But Hange was stubborn in every sense of the word; their stubbornness is what helped Humanity because they had to push Erwin to capture Titans and to study them more.
It's a later conversation, fine. You make your way to the entrance of the forest.
You feel a slight pressure in your head as you run. It builds and builds, and it's not long before your surroundings change. You were no longer in the forest but in a desert-like landscape. Your eyes widened at the sight of an aurora in the sky, myriads of root-like paths of iridescent light shooting out in all directions.
"To all Subjects of Ymir. My name... is Eren Jaeger..."
As Eren delivers his message, you sink to your knees and bring a hand to your forehead. Eren was actually going to ahead with this. What did this mean about Zeke? Was he still involved with this?
You scrambled to your feet and sprinted back as if you being chased by the marching Wall Titans themselves. That message was delivered to every Eldian and stunned them all silent.
"Hange!" you yell out. You hop over a few bushes and logs and push some brambles out of the way. "Did you see–?"
Levi was being pushed down by Hange as they spoke. That means he was awake, right? He was going to be okay, no? You ambled forward and plopped before him, sitting on your haunches. Levi reached a hand to you, wanting you near.
Hange smiled softly and stood up. "I'll give you two some space."
You smile at Hange as they walked away before you turned your attetion back to Levi. You gingerly cradled his bandaged face, thumbs smoothing under his cheekbones. His brows were knitted together; you initially assumed it was out of pain but he would have spoken up if that was the case.
He was devastated.
He was ashamed of himself.
Zeke was long gone now, but that didn't matter. He'd chase after him to the ends of the Earth in the name of fulfulling Erwin's final order. He'd fight to the bitter end if it meant making the world a safer place for you both.
"I failed." He finally admits.
How could he think that? He was a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was the only time he had underestimated the enemy. And Zeke was no ordinary enemy.
He was your safe haven; your release. It hurt you just as much to see him this way.
"I should..." he pauses to cough. You rest a hand on his tummy; his breaths are laboured. He has to catch his breath in between speaking. "I should have predicted the explosion."
"Levi, stop, you couldn't have–"
"It's been four years, [F/n]. Four shitting years. And I am no clo... closer than I was in Shiganshina." He said this through gnashed teeth.
You lean back and sigh. Even when he was gravely injured, he was still thinking about this damn promise. It's not that it wasn't worthy of being a promise, but it kept Levi awake at night (more than usual.) It was how Levi planned out every movement of every day.
"Erwin wouldn't want to see you struggling like this," you settled. Levi swallowed thickly. He looks towards the fire and tries to distract himself with the sparking embers. He begins to shiver a bit. With all the care in the world, you move him a little closer. "And neither would I."
He turns his head away. He has a bitter look on his face. He was probably pouting – as best as he could – beneath the bandages. "You heard 'em, [F/n.] They think I'm dead. I should be out there, fighting alongside you all. And I fucked up and now you and Hange and everyone in Shiganshina is paying the price."
He pauses, his eyes shutting.
"People's lives are on the line, and I could have been there."
It's a grumble. He's not looking at you, probably out of shame.
"Who says it has to be just you to take down Zeke, huh? Because Erwin said so?" You challenge. You are aware you're overdoing it and that you're cutting deep, but he is too stubborn and too familiar with shouldering everything that he has forgotten that sometimes even the strongest need a rest when they have been taken down. "You are not going after Zeke in this condition. Not until Hange gives you the all clear. Let us help you!"
"Tch, you don't–"
"–I don't understand?! Levi, I almost lost you today!" you choked. By now you have allowed yourself to – gently – slump over his body, trying to find some solace in his arms. You sit up again quickly, looking into his good eye. "I know killing Zeke is important, but you need to rest first, please! If I saw… If I had to see you that bloody and battered again…" you stop yourself from saying anything else.
It's not that you were arguing out of jealousy or anger. But it was likely Levi's first thought upon waking up was just Zeke. He was wholly consumed by this lofty goal. He wouldn't see himself as worthy unless Zeke was dead.
Levi Ackerman cannot afford to fail. Not now, not ever. At least that was how he disciplined himself.
You couldn't find it within yourself to continue the conversation. It just hurt. You were still reeling from seeing Levi so beaten up. Still reeling from the fact that if he wasn't an Ackerman, he would have died.
"I'm sorry, Levi. Sorry for… yelling. I just…"
He only nods, teeth chattering. "I know… It's okay. I know this must be a shock…" he says as he lifts up his right hand, looking at the missing fingers. "It is for me, too."
The silence that permeates between you two was initially palpable, but it becomes comforting the more you listen to his steady breathing.
Here's here now.
He's alive now.
And you would do anything to protect him.
"How are you now? Still cold?"
You hear him sigh through the bandages. He coughs before answering. "Sore."
"Where?" you ask, but that's a stupid question. Everything hurts from his head to his heart. You lean down and kiss his forehead, and trail a few kisses down his temples and uninjured cheek. "I love you so. You are no failure, Levi."
You swore you heard him inhale shakily, and that you saw his lips wobble.
"What about you?" he asked. How am I supposed to protect you in this state?
All you do is shake your head. No, stop it. Don't beat yourself up.
He relents. You weren't about to let yourself feel victimised. But also, you had to ease him of his doubts. If that was at all possible.
"You need not worry about me. Hange and I will come up with something, you just need to rest and heal."
He exhales, shakily. "Tch," he grunts in pain. "It all... hurts." You nod, smiling sadly. It was a smile that didn't - couldn't - make it up to your eyes. You smooth a thumb under his eyes, catching the stray tears that trickled down.
"Cry if you need to, I'll always listen."
You thumbed away every stray tear and listened to every worry the man had.
"Is there anything else I can do?" You ask him.
A shaky hand reaches out for you. He wants you closer. "...here. Stay. Stay with me."
Of course you would.
You'd follow Levi forever; loving him, listening and caring for him.
Hange, themself, had asked you to as well, and you were not about to let them down.
You ushered your horse into a gallop, slightly past Levi on his own horse, battling the breeze.
“Who’s competitive?”
“You are so competitive!” you scoffed, laughing as the breeze whipped past your ears.
He ignored you, predictably.
“I could’ve killed at least one! There were six!”
He tutted. The whipping wind ruffled his hair and made him squint. “Good to hear you know how to count!”
You scoffed loudly. Still, having a silly argument like this was better than ruminating on the losses suffered by the rear support squad. If the Titans had stabbed into the formation any deeper, the supply squads would’ve been at stake, and Levi Squad would’ve had to act anyway. You were sure Eld would be glad to give the reins back to Levi again.
Your focus pinpointed back on the eastern horizon and the majestic expanse of green hills all around you. Long slopes as if a god had drawn its fingers through the land when the earth was still forming. It was near the peak of the sunny afternoon when it was at its highest, and made the colors of nature more vibrant for it. Scarcely a puff of cloud had tried to form overhead. A natural embankment over a muddy, shallow ravine was coming up which you’d follow to rejoin your squad.
“Fine, then I’m going ahead of you,” you challenged. “You’re not as fast on horseback.”
“Don’t you know when to goof off?”
“You were the one complaining about the lack of Titans before. It’s bad luck!”
“Luck isn’t important if I aim to survive. The shit runs out anyway. Good job back there.”
You rolled your eyes. “An attitude like that, you might not make it back,” you snorted.
You rode in silence for the next few minutes. Again, your thoughts turned back to the squad. You wondered how Eld was holding up, and whether they had run into any Titans in the time you’d been gone. Well, you would’ve spotted a smoke signal by now.
Either you’d woken it up or it had been crouching in the lowlands in wait, a monster as tenacious as it was repulsive. And horrifying.
Six meters, you instinctively registered. No—twelve at full height. As tall as a bell tower.
Just as soon as Levi yelled your name, the Abnormal flung itself with a behemothic roar, separating you both as irrevocably as bleaching a shadow.
Your horse cried out before the earth gave way to a heavy spinning downslope of heavy brown mud. And you kept going, violently crashing.
The world waved, the ground continuing to lurch under your body rolling out of control. Eventually you could no longer hear your horse, just the crumbling of the earth, and after that, you heard no more.
You abruptly woke up to an explosion of pain ravaging your head, and darkness. A darkness so oppressive it was a horse of nature unto itself, not merely a lack of light.
You groaned in misery, forehead pressed to too-warm rock as you regained your bearings. Your ODM gear mashed against your hips when falling—you could already feel the bruise. By some divine stroke of luck though, you weren’t dead. And, you could move.
Your slew of thoughts instantly fled to Levi. Was he alright?—Did he get caught in it too? The darkest possibilities made your blood run cold.
Memory of your last conversation glared at you. The last stupid quip you might’ve ever said was he might not make it back if he kept complaining. It was so stupid. Your eyes welled up with bitter tears of frustration, coalescing your other various aches and pains.
Have to get out of here…
In the abysmal darkness, a formidable groaning began to rouse within the earth above you. It sounded like thunder belonging to black skies, a storm charging closer and closer.
You raised your head with teeth gritted as you reeled from the utter darkness. The earth rumbled above you, grains of rock and dust trickling from the ceiling. Maybe Levi was fighting it?—
No… that wouldn’t make sense. You’d fallen, right?
That could only mean that the Titan was falling after you. Clumsily, but it’d be down here with you soon.
Grasping your head, you pushed yourself arduously to your feet, and almost went crashing down.
Clearly haven’t regained all my faculties yet.
Levi.
Bone-dry grit crackled under the scrape of your boots as you backed toward a wall that might exist. This was stupid when you couldn’t even see your own hand in front of your face.
Mud smeared across your fingers as you reached inside your belt. You and Levi had just been preparing to set off a flare to alert the rest of the formation of your location. That had to be luck like he said, but you’d use it now.
Your hand closed around the grip. With a solid kick, green smoke exploded over your head in front of you, offering a virid phantom of green light.
Nonetheless, the world regained shapes and textures. The cavern was grossly enormous, while the “entrance” in the ceiling you rammed through led back out only to darkness like a brutalized wound on the earth.
The key lied ahead of you. A sharp decline in the floor revealed itself as a cliff about a story high. Hulking slices of rock extended into it. As the light faded, the encroaching darkness made the water appear like foul oil. You shot off another flare at the low ceiling, casting another sharp green glow.
The Titan was so near now that you couldn’t hear yourself think. This was all you had.
Your flare gun was done after this.
Fuck.
The cold was astonishing. Your mind staggered as it coated your entire body in daggers. You could’ve gasped hadn’t you been floundering within its icy clutches.
A great force exploded from behind you, rocketing you forward and partially through the tunnel you found yourself in. Any proof of what was up versus down only appeared out of the aether when you swam hard in one direction.
It was either the bottom, or the tunnel was filled with water, but Titan wasn’t giving up on eating you anytime soon—if you could find an air pocket, you might just live through this for a while.
You practically shoved yourself through the icy tunnel of water, scuffing your hands along the unforgiving rock as you swam along searching for an escape. The pressure was starting to hurt your head, like ginger-ale foaming in your skull.
Your lungs screamed out in protest. Eventually, something had to give.
Suddenly nothing.
You lurched upwards, throwing your arms out for vantage and finding nothing. As you struggled to pull yourself up, you gasped the stale, cool ecstasy of air.
Your boots served you the vantage to swing yourself over—and it’s a mere shelf. A shelf of uneven rock was your refuge from a Titan’s mouth.
Panting, you shook your head to clear the stars and think as the trembling rock around you splashed you with more wet cold through the misshapen portal of water. It was fighting like hell to get to you.
Rock the size of your fists crumbled from the ceiling while you did all you could do—shield your head. All you could do was lay here. You lurched backwards you dodge a glimpse of pale beefy fingers.
That’s it. Your plan unfolded in your mind like heaving open the spine of a heavy book.
You waited.
Rock cracked and forebodingly lurched from deep inside under the Titan’s wailing fists. You felt each one in your chest. You were shaking, not just the cave, you realized.
And Levi’s face… just wouldn’t quit flashing in your mind. Why didn’t you ever say anything?—Or act? He would’ve understood your feelings. You had been scared every time you had the opportunity, and you were scared now, but it wasn’t the same at all.
Above you sounded like a wooden board breaking. With an enormous whoosh of air, a hulking burst of stone bluntly dropped from the ceiling, and the monster roared, the clamor of its voice deafening. It had crushed itself—if not mostly, then all except for its nape.
You stole the opportunity as soon as it showed itself, and dropped back into the water, pumping your limbs frantically to get away.
The lack of air was pressing on your head again when you finally resurfaced in the black place you’d found yourself in before. You sucked in a sharp gasp of stale, life-saving air at the surface. It pleasantly gripped your lungs.
Stiffly, you swam around the slight cliff. Even at the shallowest place where the water gnawed on your calves, you barely managed to haul yourself onto “dry land”.
If I take much longer, the formation is apt to leave me behind.
Shivering, the realization drained what hope trapping the Titan had inspired. Nobody could stop that, not even Levi in the end. Even if they sent a search party, what were the odds of finding you here?
You backed yourself up against the wall as if bracing yourself for the force of despair intent on overtaking you. It felt like you were sitting there shivering forever, exhausted.
You didn’t know you had succumbed to exhaustion until the sound of your ODM gear working woke you up, the high-pitched sing of the wires. Working ODM gear.
A tiny dot of light—you flinched. Light was as blinding as the sun to you by now. Someone was holding either a small torch or a large match, but either way, it was someone.
“Levi…”
He pivoted so quickly in the direction of your voice that the earth scraped before he paced over. Your heart clenched from guilt—and something else from his dauntless efforts to find you far below the earth’s surface.
It was hard to say whether his face was aggravated or worried until you heard him murmur your name and kneel down in front of you, grasping your shoulder. Your eyes were shut, it was so bright, but the mere knowledge that he was here was all the more a relief.
Levi was right in front of you.
“Hey,” he huffed. “You okay?”
You started to nod, blinking. He held the light a little away from his face now, the first thing you’d seen with any clarity in hours.
“Levi,” you breathed.
“Yeah.” The worry eased. “Can you stand on your own?”
“Yeah.”
He helped you to your feet, your muscles aching cold and stiff the whole way. All of your clothes were still heavy with water.
The match flicked on the floor. His hand pressed snugly to the side of your face, then the other. “You’re like an ice cube.”
You could scarcely get out another Yeah before you found yourself with his arms around you holding you tighter than anything.
It ended so quick that you almost couldn’t tell if it even happened.
“What happened to that Titan?”
You explained the whole morbid story. It was trapped, but you agreed with him: For how long?
“We can get a new jacket. This one’s water-logged.”
Levi helped you peel your sodden jacket off. It was a weight off your shoulders. You sighed.
He threw away a dying light to blink and fade on the cave floor, and lit a fresh match. “Now what we do next depends on whether Titans can drown. So?”
You blinked at the redness across his cheeks. “I wish we could ask Hange.”
“For once, I agree.”
Sheepishly you continued. “I didn’t mean to get separated before. You were right, I was being an idiot.”
After a pause… he rolled his eyes, and adjusted his footing. “It doesn’t matter now, even if it was on you to apologize. I’d wager that it’s not done trying to eat us as long as it lives, so we need to find a way out.”
Genius observation.
With a match pinched between his fingers to light your way, you and Levi walked the edge of the cave together—so as to not waste them—for any indicator whatsoever of somewhere that wasn’t here. A divot in the wall, maybe. If he wasn’t giving up, there was no way you were about to—as if Levi ever would.
“Make sure you’re listening. There might not be a way out we can see.”
Having become accustomed to the darkness, your hearing was piqued. You could even hear the Titan’s groans from here.
A few minutes in, you lagged behind. Levi took the opportunity to raise the match up to the mangled rock-wound in the ceiling where you fell.
“It’s a miracle you didn’t break your neck. You sure you’re good?”
“I just need a bath,” you sighed.
“Trust me… you’ll be getting a bath later.”
You hovered your ear over cold stone. It was almost like a… breathing, through hollow halls.
“Levi,” you spoke into the dark.
He came back looking exceptionally terse about your situation. This softened a little once you told him what you found. It had to be rushing water.
“Good. I’ll stay here. Light a match and see if you can find any other route out of here.”
“How do you do it?” you asked in a tentative voice. “I mean, how do you know what to do all the time?”
Levi furrowed his gaze and frowned. “…I—”
Your eyes widened in his direction. “Do you hear something else?”
He looked around skeptically, but remained quiet.
It resounded from below you. This was one of those noises easily mistaken for a falling tree if you weren’t underground. It escalated gradually, but grew more and more powerful, the earth croaking to enormous strength.
Your stomach grew a black pit. The Titan hadn’t given up—the Abnormal must’ve smelled you both—and it was going to find its way here eventually.
Ironically, a cave the size of an atrium like this one was a prime spot to use ODM gear: scaled walls, rock columns protruding from the ceiling and floor, and a ceiling of great height. None of this certainly failed to cross Levi’s mind.
He was also the only one between you with working ODM gear.
“It’s going to break through the floor, right!?”
Levi whipped his head around, looking for every possible advantage.
“I can be bait. That way its behavior will be easier to predict.”
“No.”
“There really doesn’t seem to be another choice!” you snapped.
“You’d be shitty bait! You’ll just get yourself killed!”
You stared daggers at him. Of course you’d simply be dead meat without a pair of ODM gear—no debates—but you refused to sit around and be useless in such a desperate situation.
“I’ll kick your ass if you even try.”
You intended to snap back that it’d help you get out of this, and throwing yourself in peril was a part of what devoting your heart meant, but by the look on his face only you could read, it would devastate him to relent. Because he would relent.
“Look!” He stomped forward and grasped your shoulder. “It’s already fucking unbelievable that you’re still alive through this. Don’t ask me why I know what I’m doing, because all I’m doing is playing it by ear! You’re the one with all the good ideas, so shut the hell up and hide for once!”
Your breath caught in your throat. “…Okay… fine. But one thing. Try to draw its attention that wall.” You pointed. “It’ll smash it trying to get to you. Maybe then we can find a way out.”
He nodded, once resolutely.
You made a B-line for a corner of the cave furthest from the shivering floor. Your heavy, sodden clothes didn’t make it easy, and chafed your skin like sandpaper. Hard stone greeted your back before you sank to the floor and condensed yourself as much as you could. Pebbles and grains stuck to your damp palms.
The darkness was nearly absolute—you dug in your jacket, hoping. A little light was better than nothing, if your flare gun could provide that.
With muscle memory, you loaded a cartridge, and shot it off at the ceiling. It produced a pathetic red glow, an ersatz of real light, but it was enough for the next minute if you were lucky.
He’d similarly gotten into position perched atop one of the pillars, swords drawn at his sides.
It seemed to take forever when you were doing nothing. When the floor split, cracks frantically creeped across the cave floor, webbing as they met each other. With an enormous flooding of water, the Titan absurdly emerged from it steaming, scratching, and wickedly howling. In this small space—compared to where Titans usually roamed—the noise grated on your ears. You felt it reverberate in your chest with horrific clarity; it shot adrenaline through you like pushing a knife into a vein.
Despite the absurdity of this cataclysm of a situation, watching Levi fight wasn’t unlike watching a bird of prey cut down a wolf with its claws. He cut through the air like a razor, and every slight movement possessed purpose.
The Titan threw out its arm, and only pounded the wall, causing sharp stone to burst forth from it, steam slinking from its contorted fist. Levi was too quick. He might be playing it by ear, but there was no more superior fighter—no one could hold a candle to him.
In one fell swoop, steam poured from the Titan’s neck like a broken fountain. With a foul strangled groan, it fell unceremoniously on its side like an old dog. It’d stopped moving entirely when Levi landed, no worse for wear, and approached your light.
“Good job,” you offered.
Huffing in what might’ve been amusement, he gave you his hand, which you took gratefully.
The Titan had struck the walls more than once as it fought, and your plan had worked. Levi had tricked it into breaking open the wall that separated this room from the stretch of rushing water.
“We have to swim,” you said, crossing the thin floodwater and stepping over stone wreckage, your light wisping gently. He joined you, almost at your heels, until you reached your only escape route off the edge of a shelf. It separated you both from an intimidating descent despite the slow current; it was going to be freezing.
You turned to him. “Who’s a better swimmer?” you asked, which to him was an extremely easy question.
His expression twisted into something of a grimace. “Odds aren’t in my favor.”
“What?” The moment you stared at him with growing mortification seemed to last minutes. “Can you swim?”
“We don’t have a choice, have you noticed?”
“Okay. Just”—you gestured squarely—“pump your arms and legs like you’re trying to push through the water. Warning, it’s going to be very cold.”
It’s a good thing, he thought, at least swimming didn’t seem that complicated when you explained it. All that was left after that was taking the leap… In a few ways, if you managed to live through this.
Plunging into the freezing water was fucking awe-inspiring. It was dark. He fucking hated being underground. And though he’d experienced worse pain, the threat of numbness, then paralysis, superseded his sense of even the cold. It was like getting thrown into a snow embankment but worse, because there was no breathing.
Fortunately your route was small, so it was hard to get separated. And thankfully, like he figured and hoped, after his first few attempts at pushing, he got the hang of swimming fairly quickly. It was the act of suffocating that would kill him before he drowned outright.
The cave system didn’t give you a plethora of options, plus there was no guarantee you’d be able to navigate to the rushing water from here, but frankly you were going to die anyway if you hadn’t acted. That was the truth that kept hammering on his mind, the truth he desperately needed to convince himself of before he started regretting.
In the expanse of cold, frigid water, something started to push against his side—a current. Immediately you seized the opportunity: a current meant it drained somewhere near an outside source.
At last, the water topped a tunnel that gave dry, thin air, but it was sparingly since no one wanted to hit their head on the rock ceiling. The current pushed harder. He tried not to waste his breath, and took merely one more pocket of air before submitting to it entirely, but not losing an inch of your hand doing it.
The constant push of water ended. It ended at an unsettling impasse, a corridor separating the water with unsecure, but heavy hunks of stone. It was just enough to force a current through without shifting them out of the way.
This was certain death in no more than a minute.
No—you were not dying here. There was still too much to do. Too much to do with you.
He kicked, hammering his boot against the stone. Every muscle movement executed felt arduous and hard-fought against the sheer mass of water. It was like another wall.
Could’ve used that Titan here right about now.
The current ironically hindered more than helped, doing little more than insist upon your bodies; he fought shallowly. Yet when his boot came down, the force ached his foot and sent shocking volts up his leg.
You were making leverage, but not enough. Stone cracked through the water like thick ice. His temples were starting to throb, and he could feel his breath escaping him. His head swam.
Suddenly, a sense of tranquility unlike anything else draped itself over his mind like a different form of water. Everything from the depths of his spirit, the life flowing through his blood, screamed.
All of a sudden, he knew exactly what to do.
Any potential move he could execute now laid itself bare, any manner of options, but there was all but one. It wasn’t optimal, but it was too exact to fail—he’d felt this sensation sweep across him so many times, he knew it to be true. All he had to do was submit to the power infinitely greater than himself, for its ability to try to control him.
He locked elbows with you, and swung around. The motion sent him charging with punishing force against what brittle integrity remained of the wall.
The bone inside his elbow broke immediately, but he barely felt it. The sound, the sharp crack of bone stood out as vividly as sunshine right now.
Then he bent his knees, and punctured the stone with firmly planted feet. The sound of stone crunching, almost airily as it broke, was astonishing, but there was no way to feel the relief before you were both stolen by the current.
It was a blinding, swirling trip flanked by being unforgivably ricocheted by stone. In the blackened, swirling air-deprived fugue, he knew every single impact would bruise, and he also protected you from every single impact, as best he could. Knowing you’d be exasperated at him made him try harder: if you drowned, he’d never hear you take that tone with him again, and he couldn’t accept that.
The current threw you both around a corner, and the force abruptly loosened like letting an arrow fly. The water slowed immensely, and you both immediately seized the gasp of air the opportunity supplied. It got knocked out of your lungs almost immediately when you slammed against Levi—you could only imagine how it felt for him—but then you took another. And another.
You barely noticed Levi’s hold on you until it tightened, and you heard his gruff voice. “It’s gonna spit us out up here.”
You tossed your head slightly. “Are you okay??”
“Don’t ask stupid questions…”
Exactly what he said happened, and with a slam of a wet descent, you were both thrust into a deep pool of water, your boots knocking hard against a muddy bottom.
You seized gulps of air, cringing. The cave was awash with dim grey light, and the air was strangely nowhere as cold as the water. You’d have to climb out over stone again, which would’ve been easy before all this started.
Levi had ended up nowhere near you.
“Over here,” he muttered. You knew immediately—something had happened to his arm. He “stood” as close to the lanky edge he could, the water up to his chin.
You fought your heavy uniform and the pain, waded over, and helped bring his unharmed arm over your shoulders. Closer-up, his face was twisted in an incessant grimace. Because of the darkness, his pale skin looked almost phosphorescent. His bangs, soaking wet, lie all the way over his forehead, accentuating the small sharp angles of his face.
Getting out was slow-going due to his arm. You could tell he hated every second of climbing over onto the dry, smooth rock. With one arm, he gripped your forearm and easily hefted you out of the water.
When you were both sat, and all that was left to do after all of that was catch your breath, Levi stared at you menacingly. “I didn’t need help.”
“You broke your arm.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty bummed about it too.”
You shook your head, scoffing.
Levi looked around dully, tired. “Well now what? We climb out? Yeah fucking right.”
“Can we real quick just be glad we survived that just now?”
“Yeah, it was great… first damn time swimming, and I only broke one arm.”
Your throat stubbornly formed a laugh. An incredulous one. “This is not funny.”
Levi felt in the heel of his boot, shockingly pulling out a small blade, which he gave you, then started peeling off his jacket. He grunted slightly as you maneuvered around his bad arm, but no one would’ve been able to tell that he was in pain.
You sat quietly as you cut it into rough strips from his jacket to brace his arm. It wasn’t optimal, but at least you had light.
“Think another flare would work?”
Numbly, you pulled the gun from your belt, and stood. You aimed it straight up at the opening near the ceiling. The slit was very long, but not very open.
When you turned, he was standing and glaring down at a compass. It was unnerving to see him injured.
“It looks like that river flowed west. There’s actually a good chance someone will see it.”
“Good luck, right?”
He trudged over beside you. The sense that something wasn’t being said that desperately clawed to be said was enough to choke.
“How many do you have left?”
“Four.”
He grunted. Then added, “Glad you’re alive.”
“Yeah, that could’ve been pretty bad.”
He rolled his eyes. “Tch.”
“You saved my life,” you said, trying to keep the reverence out of your voice. It was true—so basely, abjectly true that you couldn’t keep it out of your voice. You knew it embarrassed him, and you knew he did it for others every time you left the Walls, but the fragility of all that only came into perspective on days like today. Both your lives had been in deep jeopardy from the second of your first descent, because of course he wouldn’t have left you. If you had gotten Levi killed, you genuinely believed you’d go to some kind of hell for destroying humanity’s hope of ever killing all the Titans. Whether that was dramatic or an anxious fantasy, it was an enormous burden nonetheless…
“Don’t mention it.”
It was your turn to roll your eyes.
You frowned deeply at the floor for several seconds. “…Levi…”
A booming, “HEY!” snatched your attention up at the shelf pure with sunlight.
wake me // sequel to when you can’t sleep at night
pairing: captain!Levi x cadet!fem bodied reader
content: canonverse, angst, set sometime after the 57th expedition, a lot of mentions about death, near death experience, medical coma/hospital, reader is temporarily disabled due to injury, body worshiping, praise kink, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, minors DNI
summary: levi would spend forever gazing at your beautiful smile and listening to your smart mouth, he just needs you to wake up first.
wc: 13.6k
a/n: thank you to everyone who read wycsan and convinced me to write a sequel. I loved every moment of writing both of these, and I hope you guys enjoy <3
This feeling was not foreign to Levi. He knew it well, danced with the emotions at arm’s length countless times. An unhearable song, a tragic melody crafted by his own heart. Strings instrumentalized by his body, lyrics crafted in his head. He could hear it this time so clearly, his eardrums throbbing, body hunched over by the hospital bed. It haunted him at every passing moment. “I wasn’t there in time”, a rhapsody that only Levi could recognize.
content: angst, canonverse, mentions and talks of death/portrayals of death, depictions of violence, blood, overall dark themes, unestablished relationship, fingering, mutual loss of virginities, overstimulation, takes place sometime before the 57th expedition (didn’t follow an exact timeline), there is a lot of talks about dying in this, levi asks a lot of intrusive questions, minors DNI.
summary: levi finds he holds an affection to a certain cadet of his. you find that maybe the comfort of your captain can quiet the thoughts plaguing your mind, even if just for one night.
wc: 10.7k
The clouds were so fluffy, so white and pure as you longingly watched them swirl above you. Your entire body was numb, back flat against the dirt with all your limbs stretched out. Your brain felt fuzzy, and for a fleeting moment you were flying in the clouds. You could feel the water vapor skim past your fingertips, the air whooshing against you as you soared. You looked down at the earth beneath your form, all the trees and even the walls looked so tiny from this height. This peaceful daydream was pulled from you with a start, your chest heaving with coughs.
“I’m so sorry!” you heard a voice call out, your line of vision intruded by the hazy form of a person leering over you. “I didn’t mean to hit you like that!”
“‘S okay,” you choked out, the numbness fading into aches all over your body. “I’ve gotten you good a couple of times too, Eren.”
“You know what, on second thought,” Eren’s lips spread into a smirk as he extended a hand down. “Consider this payback for beating my ass all those times in the Training Corps.”
“Good on you for finally landing a hit,” you chuckled, wincing as he hauled you to your feet. “Only took you three years.”
