I BETTER SEE ALL THE FANART ALL THE FICS ALL THE HYPE ALL THE COMMENTARY ALL THE BRAINROT ALL THE OCS ALL THE SELF INSERTS ALL THE EVERYTHING I NEED IT ALLLL
Ooh can u write smth abt kryptonian reader n marks variants? Would luv to read in more detail abt their fascination w them especially since imo, kryptonians r wayy better the viltrumites lol <3
Holy crap, this has been sitting in my drafts for SO LONG. Finally, it's out!
I LOVE the mark variants! I so desperately need the show to add more of them cause the comic doesn't have anything! I need to know more about the universes they came from. We get Mohawks, which makes me happy since he is my favorite, but I wanna know about all of them!
It makes it hard to talk about all of them, since we have so little to go on, but I have done more with less. That does mean a lot of these are gonna be HEAVILY based on my headcanons, so be warned.
WARNING: COMIC SPOILERS! Not many, but a warning for the variants' fates. And quite a bit of NSFW, so like the other parts, MDNI.
Also, you're so right about Kryptonians just being better, especially in this universe, since the only thing that could stop them is a Red sun. Which could technically make them weaker, but with the extra powers if they had a 1 vs 1 fight, a Kryptonian would win.
This is all based off of my Kryptonian Reader rambles: Part 1 & Part 2
For the sake of my sanity, we'll break this up a bit, cause I want to talk about as many as possible.
For group one, these are the Marks that appear in that one panel showing all 16 variants that we don't get much time with. There are a few other Marks in the comics outside of these guys, but I'm already working with so little here that coming up with stuff for them would be too much.
There are also some different Marks in the show, but again, we get so little of them that even I can't work with that.
Goggles Mark - Out of everyone, this guy is one of the ones with the most info. This was the guy who went after Teen Team (the one with the big ass forehead). So, bro clearly knew how Rex's power works meaning he probably had a similar backstory to Main Mark.
A big thing with this man (and a lot of these Marks) is that he's cocky! Bro thinks he's the hottest shit ever to exist, which plays a lot into how he treats you.
He was watching the footage of you and was slightly impressed, but he was confident he could take you down. But then you ran into him during the war, without your Mark, and easily handed him his ass. He didn't even see you coming. One second, he was threatening Teen Team; the next, he was being shoved to the ground.
He blinked and saw your pissed-off face staring at him while you held him down, and it awakened something in him. In that moment, he became a bottom. That confidence GONE, his face red hot, his boner clear as day.
Everyone else there had to look away. It felt like they were interrupting a private moment between the two of you. While you're trying to ignore it since this man almost killed your friends. He keeps moaning every time you press down harder, and it's grossing you out.
I'm not sure why I decided he was the biggest bottom out of this group. I think something about him made me want to knock him down a peg. Just watching Rex completely turn the table on this guy was the main inspiration.
Cap / Bald Mark - This was the guy in the show that Oliver mistook for his Mark. Again, another very arrogant Mark. And again, another Mark who is going to be fighting one second, kissing the pavement the next.
Unlike the previous, he takes it as a challenge. He's one of the Marks who seeks out strong foes to fight so he can feel cool. So, taking you down would be cool, but keeping you since you're so strong would be even better.
He forgets about the other heroes and focuses solely on taking you down, all with a giant smile on his face. You can't see his eyes, but you can assume he has crazy eyes going on underneath the bald cap.
Wolf Cut Mark - A comic exclusive character, who was killed by a guy who can make anything out of Darkness. We know so little about this man; however, he does a wolf cut, which tells me he's a little alt.
Maybe this is just a me thing, but I've only ever seen guys with wolf cuts if they lean alt. So out of all the Marks, he's the one who's most into your appearance, especially your casual outfits. He doesn't want you to talk or do anything. He just needs to look at you, and that's enough for him. Honestly, anything else would probably piss him off since you're not the alt badass he thought you were.
He would never get the chance, but he feels like the type of guy who would jack off to an image of you while fantasizing about being a switch, because he wants to top, but bottom would be fine if it were you.
Mustache Mark - One of the two Marks who is wearing his home world's color scheme. In the show, he's killed by Tech Jacket, and in the comics, he's killed by a female superhero called Ultra. With the uniform he's wearing, it's clear he was once known as Invincible since he's got the symbol, but he also sided with the Viltrumites cause of the mustache.
So I think that he held Nolan and Viltrum in high regard while growing up on Earth, before joining his Dad to join the Empire. So, he's gonna have the mentality that everyone who's not a Viltrumite is weak.
Meaning that he probably sees you as lesser. He has too much pride in being a Viltrumite that he can't acknowledge you as anything more than a pet, as Nolan did with Debbie.
I imagine you would meet on the battlefield while you were trying to help some civilians. He strides over, knowing how your powers work from Angstrom, thinking he would be able to outmaneuver you and win. He would drag you to his home and somehow figure out how to make stronger Viltrumites with the combination of both of your DNA. And he was VERY wrong.
You were able to stop him without breaking a sweat, and he's having a meltdown. He's kicking and screaming, still trying to fight cause he refuses to lose to you. You leave to help others, since the heroes assure you they have it, and that only makes him angrier. With the little life he has left, he makes it his mission to take you down.
He tries to chase after you, but the other supers stop and kill him.
Bulletproof Mark - This is the guy who was wearing the first costume Mark tried on that Bulletproof ended up wearing.
Side note, Bulletproof has a weird obsession with Mark and trying to be him. Maybe I'll write about it later. But anytime Mark leaves the planet, that man is trying jump your bones like he does with Eve in the comics.
Anyways, back on topic. Not much to say about this guy since we don't know much. The only information I'm really getting from him is that he's a bit of a people-pleaser, or just really doesn't give a shit, since he probably didn't like the design of the suit. However, he didn't want to tell Art, so he agreed to the suit, or he just didn't care enough and agreed so he could leave.
He's also one of the weaker variants, since he got killed by the ReAnimen. Bro zipped right on into the GDA, which makes me feel like he's very overconfident. So, maybe he's just lazy and confident. He may have gotten his powers early, so he felt like he didn't need to train.
Bro would probably feel (like many of the Marks) entitled to you. I see things going very similar to Mustache Mark, with him trying to fight you one-on-one and getting his butt handed to him. However, I feel like he would have a less severe meltdown. It would be a mix of Mustache and Goggles, with him being upset, but also a little turned on.
Tracksuit Mark - In the comics, his dude fought Tech Jacket (the guy who KILLED Mustache Mark), only to be killed by a hero named Witchblade.
Again, don't know much. However, looking at bros dialogue, he would get along with Sinister Mark since he was threatened to EAT Tech Jacket!
So you know this man is a freak. So imagine, he and one or two other Marks are fighting you cause he wouldn't be able to take you down alone. You're bloody from the fight, your knuckles are bleeding from constant punches. Then, by some miracle, he is able to grab your arm with both hands. Then he licks the blood off your knuckles.
You looked like you were going to puke after that, and somehow that makes him more into it.
Flaxan Mark - I feel like this version, after the first Flaxan invasion, followed the Flaxan through the portal and started ruling over them. Which means:
1) He was already a little evil before Nolan ever revealed his master plan, since Mark probably took over by doing what Nolan did to the Flaxan.
2) He doesn't really care about his family since he's wearing the Flaxan's armor. No way he went back home after going through that portal.
He took his first opportunity to be a dictator and took it. He's also probably the oldest variant, but that doesn't mean he's the wisest.
Another one on the list of overconfident Marks and another one on the weaker end (Bro might even be the weakest). He would try to punch you, only for his hand to bruise, and you're standing there completely fine.
He's so embarrassed, but also in pure awe of you. He goes from confident emperor to a stuttering nerd in seconds.
Long Hair Mark - Our last Mark in this group, who's again one we don't know much about. He was killed in the comics when Tech Jacket blew up his own suit, Rex style.
From the very little I'm working with here, he just gives off very vain vibes. I don't know why. He seems similar to Wolf Cut Mark, where he likes how you look and couldn't care less about your personality. You're pretty, and he's pretty. That's all he needs; you should be his.
Obviously, that doesn't happen since bro is on the weaker end of the power scale. The idea of this Mark evil monologuing to you, only for you to come in and beat the shit out of this man, just perfect. He didn't even get the chance to fight you. He's so bad at fighting you, it's honestly funny.
In group two, we have the Marks that got some screen time in the show, but we don't know what happened to them (probably dead, but who knows). A pretty short list, but I couldn't include them.
Shiesty / Hood Mark - This is one of the Marks whom you would have canonically fought in the Kryptonian Reader ramble, part one.
His design is definitely similar to the one Mark made himself, so I get the feeling that when he got these powers, they came to him fast. His natural talent went right to his head. I could also be looking too much into it, but the way he fought didn't seem like he knew much about combat. I think his powers were carrying him, and he's not really used to fighting people with the same power level as him.
All that to say, even though he's getting annoyed with how he's losing, he's enjoying the fight. A part of him is frustrated that he's losing, and he really wants to kick both of you into the pavement. However, he also likes the challenge. For the first time, he's getting trade blows with someone not weaker than him and not holding back.
When he first heard about you, he really didn't care. He thought you would be like everyone else and go down without much effort, yet you end up fighting, and he's struggling. And somehow he's having a good time.
He's 100% getting pissed that you keep turning your attention away from the fight to save people. He's having a good time getting to beat you up, then you have the nerve to not pay attention to him to save some random human. He would rip a civilian out of your hands to throw them across the city so you could focus on him. He's a big baby and wants your attention, cause all versions of Mark need attention.
I can see you punching him in the gut, causing him to slide back. His mask is flying in the air, letting you see his lips as he coughs out blood, only for him to smirk and lap it up with his tongue.
No Goggles Mark - I had to add this absolute nut case! So, he's pretty childish, being completely giddy while fighting the Guardians. I'm on board with the idea that he got his powers earlier, and it went right to his head.
Now, he would be the most excited to fight you. You rush into the Guardians' headquarters, and he throws Immortal across the room with the biggest smile. "Holy shit! It's you! I was hoping to run into you!" He sounds like a fan girl at first, then he punches you into a wall.
The only reason he's not a part of the group on day three is that Dark Wing got lucky. I'm convinced he's one of the strongest variants. Meaning, you're struggling in this fight, but you're holding your own, which he's hyped about.
I have a feeling he hasn't had a satisfying fight in a very long time, so fighting you is a breath of fresh air. If anyone else joins the fight, he's going throw them like a football in any random direction to focus again on you.
He also has to be so weird. He falls back after getting blasted in the face by your heat vision, and he laughs, "I wanna shoot you in the face with cum." Or you wiped away blood from your nose, and he gawks, "fuck, you're so cute covered in blood. You should come back to my dimension, and I'll cover you in something else."
He does want to drown you in baby batter. Bro would be a terrible lover. He would fuck you like a sex doll with no care for your pleasure.
Also, anytime you try to save one of the Guardians, he pouts like a child. He stomps his foot into the ground and puffs out his cheeks. "Why are you so focused on them! We're in the middle of something!"
If the Guardians help you take him down, he's going to be so mad. He's going to have a temper tantrum. Even though he's been beaten to a bloody pulp, he's going to grumble as you leave to help other heroes.
But if you manage to beat him all by yourself. He's upset that he lost; however, some of the blood that isn't bleeding out of him is going to his dick. He's going to be looking at you with dazed eyes as you fly away, hoping you'll come to play again.
Finally, the Marks who survive the war. We get to see some of their personalities, which are surprisingly different than the comics since Maskless seems to be fully added for TV. Like, I'm sorry, who the hell is this Mark with the kneecaps in the comics, and how did he survive? Did those kneecaps somehow protect him? (Also, sorry to the one kneecap Mark fan, he was not included.)
You also need to understand how much I need the show to add in the conversation all these guys have about how they ended up the way they are. In the comics, Mohawk said that they all talked about their past before Sinister got peckish. I'm on my hands and knees right now begging for more of these guys. Please, I need it!
Maskless Mark - Our yearning boy! Poor man misses his boyfriend so much!
Okay, this might be a little bit of an unpopular opinion, but I think this Mark is the reason his William is dead. I think either William got caught in one of Mark's fights and got hurt, or Mark didn't know his own strength.
I feel like this Mark was more naturally evil, and William was holding him back. However, the moment he was gone, Mark was ready to take over the plant. I think that's why he doesn't wear a mask, he never saw a need since he very quickly started his empire.
The fandom likes to see him as a soft boy, but he was taking glee in beating up the heroes. He's a little sadistic.
All of that to say, he's still missing William, and also enjoying expanding his empire. So, when he sees you and hears about you and Mark, he is kind of jealous of your Mark. Your Mark doesn't have to worry about accidentally hurting you or you being hurt by getting caught in one of his fights.
The yandere part would come from seeing you as something to fill the hole in his heart. Not completely replace Will, but a partner that he can use to pretend that everything's fine and he's not grieving his boyfriend.
I can see him coming up to you, before you realize the war had started, pretending to be your Mark. The two of you hug, and a part of him feels better being in someone's arms again. In that moment, he convinces himself that he somehow takes you back to his dimension.
Then you realize that this guy isn't your Mark, and the fight starts. A part of him is sad that he has to fight you cause again, he wants you to fix his issues. But he is also having a good time fighting you. Bro can't stop the smirk growing on his face as the two of you trade blows. I feel like he really enjoys being able to go all-in in a fight.
At the end, before getting shoved through the portal, he's yearning for you more than just using you as a replacement for Will, but also as an equal in combat.
Empire / Target Mark - From the one line ee does get from this guy, I know he is the king of overconfident Marks. It takes a certain amount of audacity to say shit like that.
However, that's really all we get to see of his character. He did survive to the last day, which tells me that he's pretty strong and is at least a little smart not to get himself killed.
Unlike Maskless, if he found you before you knew what was going on, there is no way you would believe that's your Mark. He has the Viltrumite symbol and is just way too cocky. You would be throwing hands pretty quickly after meeting him.
He would be one of the ones who fight you and is having a blast the whole time. He gets to fight you without holding anything back, and it's so fun for him. However, he also doesn't wanna hurt you too much since you want to bring you back with him.
I feel like he's the type of guy to take trophies after a battle, and in his mind that would be you if given the chance. But, no way your Mark is letting that happen.
Also, I feel like he's part of the group making the grossest comments at you the whole time during his fight. If he ever manages to pin you down during his fight, he's grabbing your chest while making a honking sound. Before, he gets decked by your Mark because how dare this man touch you! This will not stand!
Viltrumite Mark - The better version of Mustache Mark /j. But, seriously, unlike Mustache, I feel like he's not the biggest fan of the Viltrum Empire.
I feel like he grew up at least for a bit on Earth. Then something happened with Debbie, or Nolan took over the planet before Mark got his powers. I like the second more, so we're going with that.
The planet was taking over sooner, so Mark grew up on Earth, but the Viltrumite version of it. Debbie would still be alive and influencing him somewhat by not making him fully follow the empire, as evidenced by him not growing a mustache. However, he still has some pride in his heritage, which is why he wears the uniform.
Anyway, a part of me wants to say that if you two fought, he would be mostly silent during it. However, seeing how he was yelling at Spawn in the comics, I don't think he could keep his mouth shut.
Maybe in the beginning, he's generally curious about you and your powers, so he tries to focus on the fight, keeping all his thoughts in his head. However, as you two fight more and more, he can't keep it inside.
One comment slips out, and now the floodgates are open. He is throwing out overconfident, dirty remakes, while you're confused as hell, since he was so composed a few minutes ago. What the hell happened?
Also, if our sweet, stupid Reader had seen him before they knew about the battle, he would have thought Mark had been brainwashed or something. They would tackle him with a hug, basically crying, telling him that they'll save him and get him back to his normal life.
At the same time, he's confused, but enjoying being wrapped in your massive arms.
Full Mask Mark - Another sad boy. He misses his mom so much, probably because he had something to do with her death, or he blames himself for what happened.
I saw someone online say that he probably covers his face after killing Debbie out of shame, which I feel like I agree with. We don't get anything about these characters, so we have to take as much as we can from their designs.
So, like Maskless, I feel he would use you to help with the loneliness he feels after Debbie's death.
However, he's not totally innocent in this. A part of him would want to take you to show that he could. He sees how strong you are, and something in him is just screaming that he's gotta conquer you (in more ways than one).
I just have a feeling that all Viltrumites have some attraction to power. So when they see something strong, they either have to kill it to prove that they're better or somehow grow to be more powerful.
And even though he would never admit it out loud. He's definitely feeling that with you. But he has some self-control, so he's not say weird shit to you when you fight.
Also, he's one of the variants that could trick you into thinking that he was your Mark. You would fall hook, line, and sinker while he gets to enjoy snuggling up against you.
Omni-Mark - One of the only serious variants. Seriously, him and Sinister are the only two I could see actually running an empire. The others are too childish.
Clearly, this man held Nolan in high regard looking at his costume. However, in the comic, he mentions how he killed his father. So... Giving mixed signals.
But both can be true at the same. An idea I had was that Nolan changed his mind about joining the empire after Mark was already on board. Then the two got into a fight, and Mark won. Mark felt bad about his father, so he changed his suit to honor him.
Also, in the comics, he was killed by a fucking yoyo? A YOYO? I'm glad the show changed that cause what do you mean this Mark was able to kill Nolan, but got strangled by a yoyo? I'm sorry, was Nolan even fucking trying in that fight?
Back on topic, before Angstrom explained who you were and your powers, I felt like this Mark wouldn't like you. I think he would believe that your Mark was rejected by Eve and started dating you to make himself feel better.
But then he learns about your powers, and he's more understanding of your Mark now. I don't think he would fall for you until you meet on the battlefield.
Only after his heart is racing from trying to take you down does he admit that you're pretty great. However, that's also the moment when he decides you must be his.
He is willing to fight tooth and nail for you. However, he's not verbalizing any of this. At some point during the fight, he starts attacking harder than before, and you have no idea what changed.
Externally, he's cool as a cucumber. But I feel like, internally, he's one of the variants who is the most lonely since Nolan and Debbie are both dead, and he has this pent-up anger against Eve. So internally, he's imagining your family together.
He's just a little delusional. Let him have this.
Prisoner Mark - He's the Mark besides Sinister I wanna know the most about. Why did he get put in prison? It's heavily implied in the comics that Nola put him in there, so why? What happened to his face and body? Viltrumites seem to be able to shake off some injuries without scars, so what must have happened to give Mark those?
So many questions that will never be answered, so much time to make some guesses! Nolan probably put him in there after he didn't agree to join the empire. The scars are probably from torture experiments in jail. Just like the other Marks, he has some form of empire, so maybe he brought together some species to rebel against Viltrum? Or maybe his deal had nothing to do an Empire and he just wanted out of prison.
All that to say, he's got some issues. Mainly, I feel like bro has terrible trust issues since his own father threw him in jail. So, he would probably be pretty wary of you. Again, if he did fight you, it would be to prove that he's stronger.
However, I love the idea that he goes to find you before you know the war has started. You see him and immediately assume something has happened to your Mark to cause him to get all of these scars and just wrap him in your arms. You're sobbing, asking him what happened and what you can do to help.
Meanwhile, he's so confused, but also you're so nice and warm, and he hasn't had a hug in a very long time. The guy just melts into you. He's letting you baby him while cursing your Mark out for being such a lucky bastard.
Then your Mark shows up, and you're sitting there confused because if that's your Mark, then who the hell are you cradling right now? While Prisoner is pressing himself further into you because he just wants a second more of not fighting.
Mohawk Mark -MY BOY! Sorry, I adore this variant. He's such a rat bastard, and I love him.
And I think he would like you. I think he sees your punk vibes and is down. Then he finds out about your powers, and bro is ready to meet you and even more ready to beat you up.
He knows you're gonna end up fighting. That's what he wants! It's been so long since he's been able to let loose, and battling you seems like the perfect opportunity.
However, he's also pretty sneaky. So, I feel like he would try to play himself off as your Mark. Which, of course, you fall for you. There are no thoughts in your brain. You're getting really excited about his haircut and piercing, talking about how you guys match now!
And he's playing along while also keeping you away from your Mark and news about the variants, so he can spend some time with you before he beats you up and drags you back to his dimension.
But finally, you realize this isn't your man, and the fight begins. Just like No Goggles, he is making the grossest comments ever to you. Like, some of them are so weird you don't even understand what he could be implying. And honestly, he might not know what he's saying and is just saying stuff to see your face contort into a confused expression.
He's just having a ball, guys. This is the best day he's had in a while.
But then you get hurt by a few other variants, and his fun is now gone! How's he supposed to enjoy destroying cities if you're not there?
Also, if he ever got back to his dimension, he would add some people to his harem who look like you, no doubt.
Sinister Mark - Finally, Mark and the one with the best outfit, you know I'm right.
He's without a doubt in my mind the strongest variant. I feel like that comes from his universe being one where everyone is stronger and more villainous than in the normal timeline.
In the comics, we learn that one of the heroes in the normal dimension is a villain in Sinister, which is rich, since Sinister is super evil. But that just makes me believe that everyone is just kind of a bad guy. Like this would be one of the cases where Debbie sided with Nolan and Mark; however, that really doesn't matter since Sinister probably killed both of them.
But oh, his meeting with you. A part of me wants to say that he would trick you as Mohawk did; however, I feel like it wouldn't last very long. I think you pull him in a hug or wrap your arm around him, and he would take that moment to attack.
He's just a sadistic guy who likes to see you suffer. He also likes getting the upper hand right at the start.
I don't think he would make gross comments like some of the other guys do, because he's just too focused on beating you into the ground, as I said in my first post. He has a hard-on during the whole fight and makes no effort to hide it.
I can see him pinning you down to lick the blood off your face because he's such a freak. If any of the Mark variants are going to be the reason you end up in a hospital bed for the rest of the Invincible War, it's gonna be this guy.
However, Minors are NOT WELCOME to read any of my content. I will block you if I find out you’re a minor.
Delilah Graves, otherwise known as Sheriff Graves, is one of the many police officers working in Atlanta, Georgia. She is called on duty to bring in a man by the name of Lee Everett after he committed a gruesome murder, which would be her last on-call assignment she would ever have.
TW: Swearing, Blood, Mentions of Domestic Abuse; Car Crash.
It was a beautiful, perfect day. The perfect day to pack up the family and head to a local park for a long-overdue picnic, or go to a river or lake to cool down! However, that wasn't the case for Delilah Graves, as she was clocked in for her tiresome, yet rewarding job.
This also wasn't the case for the criminal, Lee Everett, who was now sitting silently in the back of Sheriff Graves' police car. He had a stone-cold face; his somber brown eyes locked on the centre console of the vehicle. Delilah recognized that look— that was the look of total understanding. Lee knew what he had done, and he understood the consequences to his actions. He was going to prison, likely for the rest of his life.
Delilah looked at her prisoner through the rear-view mirror, and adjusted it as she needed to. This guy was quiet— too quiet. She wasn't used to such obedience from her prisoners. Half the time they were calling her misogynistic names or crying their eyes out, claiming they didn't commit whatever horrendous crime they were being accused of.
Lee’s eyes slowly rose from the centre console, and rested against Delilah’s sea-glass-green eyes. The officer felt her throat tighten. He just looked… so defeated.
“It might be… a bit unorthodox. What I’m about to say, anyways,” she began, affectively getting Lee’s undivided attention, “But if my husband had done what your wife did, I would’ve killed his partner, too. I… get it.”
Lee shrugged, his eyes staying the exact same size, as if he wasn’t surprised by what Officer Graves had said, “Does it really matter?”
Delilah couldn’t imagine the spiralling thoughts this man must be going through in this moment. The woman had gone through heartbreak before. During academy training, she had fallen in love with a young man by the name of Alec. He had ultimately chosen someone else after willing Delilah’s heart, and in those first months after, she had felt a rage she’d never felt before. Now, imagining a spouse cheating?
That rage would’ve been catastrophic.
“Nah, I guess it doesn’t matter.”
Unsteady silence…
Lee went back to depressively staring down at the centre console. And Delilah went back to focusing on the road.
Licking her lips, Delilah’s attention was suddenly turned to the flickering static of her radio.
‘We might have a 10-80 situation Westbound of the off-ramp to Atlanta’ it said, causing Delilah to exhale in grief.
Domestic assault. Does it ever end?
Suddenly, a couple cop cars roared down the opposite side of the interstate, catching both yours and Everett’s attention. Jeez, does the 10-80 really need four units? Must be something huge— probably something similar to the prisoner in the back of the cruiser.
Another cop car.
Then another.
The radio kicked to life again, but Delilah wasn’t listening anymore. Two helicopters descended from the clouds and stormed towards Atlanta.
“I don’t think that’s a typical 10-80,” she whispered, her eyes locking back to Lee in unease. Then, she turned up the volume on her radio; ready to ask questions if the dispatch wasn’t about to explain what was happening.
‘All units to Atlanta,’ the man boomed immediately. No context. No understanding as to why everyone was being called back.
“Jimmy, what the hell is goin’ on?” Delilah snapped while bringing the walkie to her lips, “What’s with all the choppers?”
‘There’s a group of people in Atlanta just eatin’ each other, Del,’ Jimmy replied, seriousness in his voice, as if he was trying to not panic, ‘Rippin’ each other’s throats out. It’s a massacre.’
“Jesus,” Lee mumbled, his eyes as wide as dinner plates.
“What do you mean, Jim?” Delilah pressed, her left hand, which was still on the wheel, was now digging into the soft leather with her nails, “Cannibalism? Like a group?”
Screams could be heard in the background now. Then, Jimmy’s scream.
“Jim? JIM?” she shouted, her eyes now as wide as Lee’s, “Holy fuck! Jim!”
Then, Lee screamed.
“WATCH OUT!”
It felt like they’d hit a damn brick wall. Delilah’s head swung forwards; her nose bashing brutally against the steering wheel. The car immediately screeched sharply to the right; tossing cop, prisoner, and the person who they’d hit off the cliff.
Visions of red, white, and black swirled through Delilah’s mind as the car did flips down the hill. Blood poured from a gash on her face, and she felt her ankle crack to the right. A bitter scream left her lips as the cruiser made its home at the bottom of the hill.
Summary: A story of belonging, loss and an unlikely bond geared towards survival. When D'jai wakes up in a strange clinic, she finds herself quietly pushing to find answers no one can give her—her fragmented memories. With no past to claim, only her quiet instincts set her apart from the rest of the world within the Walls. Levi Ackerman, bound by duty and shadowed by loss, becomes her reluctant anchor she didn't ask for. Between battles, blunt remarks and fleeting tea moments of calm, something begins to stir—pieces of hazy memory, and feelings they can’t quite name. Nor want to. But when the past and present blur, what will they find waiting in the silence between them?
.·。.·° Themes 17+/ fluff and angst. intense romance. vulnerability. deep yearning. no smut. touch. loneliness. hurt. comfort. slow burn. opposites attract. discrimination. loyalty. suppressed feelings. character growth. longing.
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So this chapter is a long one! I am internally screaming. I worked a little backwards with it, but it worked out. I am happy with how it turned out! I really wanted to separate the chapter into 2 but I thought just putting it together wouldn't be bad either. In this chapter you'll get to see more of D'jai's personality and Levi's uncertainty.
An atmosphere of nerves buzzed inside D’jai’s head like gnats as she made her way back to her special room—The interrogation room, she called it. When she found herself back to her bed with the help of a nurse guiding her to the observation room with the doctor earlier, she requested a water pitcher to keep herself hydrated, to feel a sense of control despite the uncanny stares she endured inside the clinic. But she wasn’t fooling herself. She had no idea what was going to happen to her, nor was she confident in the answers she was going to give. D’jai gulped down the remainder of water from her mug as she stepped back into the warm, sterile room, her eyes feeling the chilling growth of the door opposite her as she sat in her wooden seat. The nurse, young, about her age, piped with rosy cheeks. “They’ll be ready for you in a moment. Don’t be nervous, ok?” Before D’jai could reply, the nurse closed the door with a soft click.
Her stomach felt full, yet empty—her chest heaving as she replayed her last interrogation session in her head. She didn’t want to admit that the room made her feel small, as if it represented a silent death sentence about her future. D’jai felt her bladder expand, making her hips shift, wondering if it was a good idea to drink so much water before being questioned by more military men. She clutched her dry hair that was still plaited together, though frizzy now. 'I hope I don’t sound like an idiot. I hate it when men think they have the upper hand on me…' she mused. At least she remembered that part of her pride.
Just as she had the nerve to scratch her tresses loose, a sharp knock startled her—the door creaked open. Her eyes flicked up to see two men, both blonde and tall—handsome even, enter the room unhurried with heavy footsteps. Unlike the previous officers, the two men strode in with a masculine grace she wasn’t expecting. She observed how their uniforms were like other officers, but the men in front of her wore an extra detailed. A green cloak with wings. Her fingers moved to straighten her gown, suddenly aware of how unkept she appeared in front of them. 'These men must be of the same group as the one who found me in the field…?’ Her lips parted, but no words followed. She just waited.
As soon as Erwin and Mike entered the room, their eyes widened a fraction upon seeing the bandaged brown skinned woman seated before them. Her presence, fragile and earthy, was an abstract painting they tried to dissect, their eyes keenly focused as they tried to register her doe-like aura. For Erwin, her presence reminded him of uncharted terrain—quiet, but demanding to be mapped. When Erwin saw she remained silent—his tongue clicked—he broke the soundless thread.
“My name is Erwin Smith, commander of the Survey Corps. You were found outside of Wall Rose. I’d like to ask you a few questions. Nothing harsh. Just to understand what happened.” Her throat tightened at the bass in his voice as her eyes scanned between both men, the other crinkling his nose. She forced her voice steady.
“…The other men who came earlier, they already asked me questions. I doubt my answers will be any different.” Her eyes dropped with a faint smile— as though to brace herself. Sensing defeat in her tone, Erwin’s gaze softened and so did his tone. “Miss, they’re just doing their job. But I’d like to hear from you directly. In your own words. Please take your time.” Her gaze lifted, her heart starting to race. As if he sensed her nervousness, Mike stepped towards her in three strides. She held her breath as he leaned, his nostrils flaring subtly around her hair, reading her without proper translation. D’jai stiffened, uneasiness rising to her cheeks.
“Uh ok…?”
She wasn’t sure whether to feel prickly at the action or curious—either way, they caught her attention. “This is my lieutenant, Mike Zacharias. Please don’t mind him.” Though a little weirdly entertained, she held back a scoff. 'Yeah I mind…'
Mike stepped back, his voice low as his mind conjured up a valley plain and something else he couldn’t name. “She’s clean. Blood is obvious, but not from any Titan encounter. Grass, soil and earth are what cling to her.” D’jai blinked as she held back a nervous smile. 'What is going on? And how did he know that just by…sniffing me? she pondered.
Sensing her worry, Erwin stepped forward and inclined his head. “I know this must be overwhelming. The doctor mentioned that you have memory loss. Do you recall anything—a name, a place or other people with you?”
“Uh…” she twirled her finger on her gown, her mouth parting but closing. Eyes clouded in frustration, she shook her head. “Not really. I do remember my name but that is about it. And I know nothing about walls or titans, so…”
The screws in Erwin’s brain turned. ‘Interesting…no memory of titans? The very walls that contain humanity as we know it? Or is there more to her story…’
She expected them to press her for more information like the other officers, but instead saw Erwin slowly nod in understanding, accepting her answer. “Thank you, that’s enough for now. What matters is that you’re safe. We’ll see to it that you remain so.”
Her spine tingled, eyebrows lifting faintly as if she hadn’t expected reassurance from a soldier, a commander at that. The weight of his words landed heavier, not because his words were condescending or patronizing, but the weight allowed her to breathe a little easier than earlier. As Erwin and Mike turned to leave, she glanced at their retreating forms. For the first time since her questioning, she felt a sense of safety, hoping it was not fleeting like the white and silver wings on their cloaks.
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Minutes passed by as the two men passed supply carts down the muggy hallway, Erwin finally poked. “Mike, what did you gather from the woman?”
“D’jai…” he mused, whiffing from memory, “she definitely was not what I was expecting. Her features are…exotic. Mysterious and fragile as far as I can tell.” Erwin could not agree more. Mysterious as a jigsaw puzzle he wanted to piece together. No way was Erwin going to let this woman slip between his fingers and allow the Garrison to shove her away into an unknown alley somewhere. He knew the Garrison did not like anomalies they couldn’t explain to their superiors, nor did they want to get involved in paperwork over a single amnesiac civilian. He knew he could pull a fast one over their idle eyes to bring her under his custody while he stationed a plan for her not to reach the interior’s radar.
A few moments later, Erwin and Mike found themselves in a private room with the Garrison officers—the two men who interrogated her and their lead. Erwin heard from the doctor that the earlier interrogation proved fruitless—it only sowed D’jai’s distrust in the wall’s authority. Erwin was hoping to gain her trust, not in the safety of the Garrison but in the stability and protection of Survey Corps. He wanted her under his cape of fortification and he knew exactly how to maneuver their perspective to fit his own.
The lead officer, tall but a few inches shorter than Erwin, exhaled from a seat. “She’s not our concern. Brown-skinned woman with no papers, no memory, found outside the wall? That’s a headache waiting to happen. Let the interior deal with her.” Erwin’s expression remained calm, but his vision sharpened. “The interior will only bury her in red tape—or worse. You don’t want their attention any more than I do.”
The officer snorted. “Then she’s a liability to you, Commander. We can’t have a stray sowing panic inside the Walls. If people hear that there are outsiders wandering in…”
“She carries earth and grass, not blood from her own hands,” Mike stepped in with a low voice, “No titan stench. Impressive actually. If anything, it proves she’s not a danger to anyone.”
Erwin inclined his head, his tone unyielding. “Exactly, which is why the Survey Corps will assume responsibility. She belongs in our custody since she was found by a scout. What matters is preventing disorder. Besides, from the sound of your earlier interrogation, you’d rather have her hushed from fear and shoved down a pipe hole. Ever more reason for me to take her.” He eyed the short and tall officers who hid their grimaces under Erwin’s judging gaze. “Consider this a relief to your post.”
The lead exchanged glances with the two garrison officers, shoulders loosening as they realized Erwin was taking the burden from them. With a wave of his hand, the lead didn’t argue further. “Then it’s agreed. Take her.”
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Sunlight filtered through the room on top of D’jai’s bed, the clinic space emptying patients as the day buzzed with activity, only to be replaced with new faces. D’jai fingered with her bandage, distracting herself of the anxious thoughts trying to break free from her mind. She muted her surroundings, a faint hum vibrating in her throat of a forgotten melody. The only buzz she wanted was knowing where her future lay, but she couldn’t understand what would become of herself if she couldn’t remember at least the person she was, what life she lived before that made her, her. She twiddled her fingers, sighing from the stress of not simply knowing. ‘If I belong here, why does it feel like I don’t? If I have a life here, why aren’t there any records of me? Of my family?’ she reflected. Either she was a part of a weird conspiracy, or she was having a bad dream—for her sanity’s sake, she hoped it was a dream so she could simply wake up in a different bed, in a different place.
“D’jai.”
Her eyes darted when she heard her name, the blonde man from earlier approaching her bed with heavy footsteps as he came to a stop by her mattress. ‘Erwin.’ She straightened her posture as he stared down at her, blue eyes sharp gems yet laxed enough to give her hopeful wonder. “Good news D’jai. I’ve successfully made arrangements to have you under the Survey Corps protection.” Erwin ushered a faint smile as he watched her eyes glint at his words. She rubbed her sheet gently, sensing he had more to say. He continued as he observed her neutral expression. “Now I spoke with your doctor. He said you will be released in two days, just to make sure your head injury is stable. After that you will be released to the Survey Corps and offered a temporary room to settle in as your case is further investigated.”
Temporary or permanent, she didn’t care.
She observed the green cloak that draped his broad shoulders, her eyes flickering down to hold in her excitement. The news felt groundbreaking for her. One step closer to getting answers she should already know—but she hesitated. “Erwin…thank you.” She wanted to wait on putting her trust in a stranger she hardly knew, a man at that. But she believed she had no other choice, for the Garrison treated her like trash but the Survey Corps has already proven to be more reliable and trustworthy since her rescue. A paradox of emotions swirled in her chest, but she managed to offer a soft smile in her response.
Erwin observed her expression, noting her tentative reply. He grabbed the seat at his side and sat down, peering in her eyes as if searching an unknown map for humanity’s secrets. He hoped his gamble worked again. “I don’t expect you to lay your instincts aside if you feel unsure regarding this union. If you feel uncomfortable, please don’t let me stop you.” D’jai’s eye widened, feeling her breath escape. “No, no Erwin. It’s just—honestly, a lot for me to process. So much is happening all at once. I like to consider my choices carefully and right now…” She stared in his eyes to see if her trust could be further gained. Eyes don’t lie.
“…it seems that the Survey Corps is th-the safest option…for me.” Erwin listened, sensing her nervousness seep through her words. Yet as she stared back into his eyes—immovable yet searching— a beat of surprise pooled in his chest. He grinned faintly, impressed by her subtle strength wrapped in a pillow. ‘So, she may be more than a doe…she’s quiet, but she has a simmer beneath her. I wonder how that looks fully like on her.’ To add reassurance, he nodded. “Yes. Call me bias but the Survey Corps is the best at serving humanity in the fullest and literal sense of the word. As a displaced civilian found outside the walls, we will keep you safe and help you find the answers you seek. And as your memories resurface, in turn you may be able to help us learn of things that you experienced when you were outside the walls.” She mirrored him, nodding in return at his reasonable deal. Her shoulders relaxed as she slowly sank back against her bed rest, feeling as if she’s been rescued again. “Yes, that sounds good to me.” And with that, he let loose another small grin at her geniality.
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*Survey Corps HQ. Late Evening. Same Day.*
Levi’s room was a cave of quiet, save for the shuffling of boots and murmurs seeping through the cracks of his door. Light glimmered from his candle—its wavy shadow looming over neatly stacked papers on his desk for extra clarity in his window-lit room. He had a ledger open, flipping through its smooth pages to add to its records of past mission success and losses. He was already accustomed to the losses of recruits for years now, knowing it could be him one day if he wasn’t careful, including his squad members. He wondered what could potentially solve that deficit, now or in the future. He was recently sent word to meet Erwin at Trost tomorrow, involving the displaced woman found outside Wall Rose, and despite his doubts, he did wonder if the case was what Erwin imagined it to be. He believed the commander had something up his sleeve regarding the woman that he and Mike had been briefed in confidence. But what is it? What was it he couldn’t see that Erwin could sniff out almost in the blink of an eye?
Ink smeared out of a sectioned column as his thoughts were startled by a loud knock at his door, the voice of his eccentric comrade vibrating through his walls.
“Captain Levi!? Are you in there!?”
He exhaled a curt breath as he noticed a small ink blotch slowly form under his stormy eyes, the page now erred with wasted ink. He pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning his elbow on his desk as he set his pen down. ‘Hange.’
“Levi I know you’re in there! I already asked around if you were in Trost with Erwin and Mike. Also one of your “four birds” tweeted that they saw you go to your room not that long ago!”
He raised his voice. “Come in! You’re too loud!”
Hange pushed the door open, boring the energetic paws of a hound Levi has yet to see anyone else embody in the Survey Corps. He did not even speak—Hange beat him to it. “Levi I heard some awesome news buzzing around about someone being found outside the walls! Have you heard the gossip yet?”
He sat back, arms crossed. He wasn’t going to spill any ammunition on their already simmering coals. “Yes I have. What of it?”
Hange laughed as they stepped closer, gripping the extra chair opposite him. “You know me by now. Anything that sounds peculiar always gets my attention, and this one I heard yesterday is already added to my list! So come on, spill. Tell me what you know so my mind can shut off about it!”
“Shut up Hange. You’re too loud.” His posture stayed rigid as he tapped his arm, his eyes tired yet sharp. “And if I was to know of any details that you don’t already know by now, it’s probably a matter that isn’t your business to know.”
Hange tilted their head as they leaned, candlelight underlining the glass of their goggle spectacles with rich wonder. “Levi, such a grouch on this beautiful sunny day? Alright I won’t push. Just wanted to hear from your mouth about the hue of the woman’s skin? I heard her skin is…rather striking. But not just that, even her hair texture! Do those “details” ring any bells?” Voices trailed outside his door down the corridor, emphasizing the contrast of his pacing mind.
Levi’s face was void of any design, yet he internally tried to recollect any other details about the mysterious woman that Erwin had briefed him about two days ago. He couldn’t ride out to Trost with his comrades the other day to see the situation up close, but the message he received from Erwin just hours earlier piqued his rising anticipation of seeing firsthand what Hange had heard themselves, if there was any validity to the gossip they heard, or if it was likened to children’s tales of trolls living under bridges.
Hange leaned back, their lips curving wildly as they relished the quiet. “Ho ho ho ho! Levi your silence is telling. Maybe I’m asking the wrong person?”
His face inclined. “Tch. Whether I know those details or not, if they’re of concern to you Erwin will brief you personally. But right now, I’m in the middle of paperwork. Can you not tell, or are your glasses too clouded with your stench?”
Hange huffed a nervous laugh, tugging their tan jacket as they turned on their heel, a memory unwrapped of when they were forcefully bathed many, many months ago. “Captain of the scouts, always so harsh! You know what, I think I’ll excuse myself, got myself a new project I’m cooking up! Talk with ya later!” They exited his room in a hurry, quiet returning to his humble space despite the loud voices of questions strutting freely in his brain, thanks to present facts or light gossip he didn’t even bother to find out—until now.
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The second morning in the clinic was warmer, chatter low among patients as sunlight dripped soft down the windowpane. D’jai’s breathe was steadier today, save for the conspicuous stares she still received from new patients weaving through the patient room. She hummed a new tune her mind grabbed from somewhere she couldn’t place. But it didn’t matter. She held a book in her lap— a journal that Dr. Brauer suggested she use to “exercise” her mind. To her it made sense. She couldn’t remember if she was a writer in any context of the word, but the null act of feeling the leather book, its blank beige pages beckoning her hand, she couldn’t help but feel it ground her to something invisible. Something. Anything that came back to her mind could be a key to discovering her lost memories. She trilled, lifting a hand to her hair as she watched Dr. Brauer tend to another young patient. She gazed inward, flustered at her simple gown and for some reason, she wished she had something else to wear besides the white garbs given her by the nurses.
A voice crackled the air like a match. “Oh! You’re… new!”
D’jai blinked, her head swinging towards the sound with uncertainty. Her eyes landed on a young woman standing near her bed with a ribbon-tied woven basket in her hand. Her hair was auburn red, eyes hazel with an excited gleam like starlight. D’jai saw she was wearing the tan jacket and pants uniform like the other soldiers she’d seen walking around. She put two and two together. The woman smiled, her teeth bright and curious as she stared in amazement. Caught off guard, D’jai laughed nervously as she clenched her journal. “Yes, I suppose so. Been here for a while now though…”
The woman, Rochelle, tilted her head as she observed D’jai’s features, letting her uncanny earthy appearance steep her eyesight. “Yeah? Pretty cool, I got to catch you before you get discharged.”
D’jai’s head started to feel heavy, her posture flinching back in confusion. “…I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
Rochelle waved a hand with a small laugh. “Ah no, I don’t believe we’ve met. If we have, I don’t think I would have forgotten someone like you.”
Heat raised to D’jai’s cheeks, a titter escaping her mouth she couldn’t suppress. “What do you mean?”
Rochelle laughed again, swinging her covered basket. “What do I mean? It’s just,” she grinned suddenly, “you look amazing! Cool! Your skin, your hair…you don’t look like anyone I’ve seen before!” Her brows lifted at her enthused interest. Even though D’jai knew her speech was meant to be endearing, hearing the last sentence made her feel unsure. The words made her feel small. She glanced at her own hands. ‘She said I don’t look like anyone she’s seen before?...Does that mean…?’
Before her thoughts got carried away on a cloud, Rochelle chattered, “I heard about a woman who was found outside the wall. I don’t mean to be nosy, but—are you that person?”
D’jai glanced back up, trying to clench a small smile. “I hope it’s not that obvious…” She shifted her legs on the bed, eyeing Dr. Brauer with an instrument that grazed a patient’s tongue. “But yeah, I’m that person. The doctor’s been kind since I can’t remember a whole lot,” she paused, wondering if she was oversharing, but didn’t think it mattered, “so has that man…commander Erwin, is the name?”
“Yeah, Commander Erwin of the Scouts?”
“Yes. He’s been very helpful. I really appreciate him so far for offering me a place to stay when I get out of this clinic.”
Rochelle’s eyes softened at D’jai’s words as she came to fully understand D’jai’s predicament. ‘She has no home?’Rochelle gripped her basket. “Y-you don’t have a place to stay? A place that’s your own?”
D’jai sighed, her chest twisting at the fact that if she had never met Erwin, she basically would be homeless—living on the street with nothing but the rags on her back. Her gut swirled with stung pride that she didn’t realize was nailed deep in her gut all this time. “Apparently not.”
Rochelle’s eyebrows turned, her face distorting in contrast to the brighter expression she had held a few minutes ago. She felt some respect for the Survey Scouts but believed the young woman sitting before her could pick a better bracket. “What’s your name?”
“D’jai,” she chirped.
“Nice to meet you D’jai,” she said as she grabbed a chair to sit, “my name’s Rochelle.” Rochelle continued despite herself, hoping she wasn’t getting ahead of ego, but she felt herself generous—when has she ever had the chance to help someone in need in this way? A giver at heart, she felt philanthropic. She set the basket down at her feet, crossing her legs. “If you’re trying to get used to the walls again, I don’t think staying in the barracks with soldiers barking orders would do you any good. How about staying somewhere that’s more…cozy?”
D'jai stared, nose crinkling. “How would I manage to get a place like that? I—”
Rochelle’s chuckle bore the cut of a strawberry, sweet as she crossed her arms. “Manage? No girl, you wouldn’t manage a whole lot. I’m proposing that you stay at my place up in Stohess. I have a decent apartment that I share with my brother. Because of my division, I’m able to work from home sometimes. So I don’t know…maybe I can look out for you...?”
D’jai’s mouth went slack, her eyes widening at the offer that seemed to fall in her lap like a lost kitten. ‘Stohess? Must be another city…’ After a beat her tongue moved quicker than she wanted. “Are you… serious?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
“Mmm…” D’jai could see that Rochelle was serious, her probing stare a testament to the word. The idea did appeal to D’jai’s sense of comfort. ‘A homey space, probably quieter and more feminine than being around soldiers all day?...but…’ She looked down at her journal, eyeing the door that opened every so often with trays and towels carried by shrewd nurses. She imagined Erwin walking through with his green cloak in tow—anytime soon. She tilted her head as she looked back at Rochelle. “What about my arrangement with Erwin? I already made a deal with him?”
Rochelle smirked with a gracious lean. “So that’s not a no then?” She patted her chest as if to vow. “Don’t worry. I can probably convince Erwin to see that my way is best.”
D’jai didn’t think of it of whose way was better, but when it came down it, a quiet place for her to bloom and discover herself seemed to flip her switch—and she was down for it. She nodded, hoping her trust in the stranger before her did not go wary. “Ok. I’ll leave you to it.”
Rochelle’s chest swelled at her new friend’s agreement, her smile unmistakably bright which garnered a laugh from D’jai. ‘Awesome! Can’t wait to show her off to people. She probably needs this more than I do. I’ll be the talk in town and so will she! A dynamic duo!’
She kept in mind D’jai’s image, how the white gown draped over her body. The image of her having nothing, not even other clothes to change into, did not sit right with her. She bit the inside of her cheek as she leaned back. “Yeah, staying with the scouts isn’t true living for someone like you.”
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Half an hour passed. Rochelle sat, chatting with her friend who got injured during military drills. The ribbon-tied basket she brought with her–hair oil, snacks and fruit–sat neatly on a table, a sweet reminder not to act recklessly during training periods. Though she teased with feigned rebukes, the thought of speaking to the commander of the Survey Corps slipped into her mind repeatedly. She wondered how she could pull off ‘Operation: Get D’jai to Stohess’ mission. Then what seemed like an answered prayer, she heard his voice—stern and deep—float through the corridor. She clenched her seat, standing abruptly to check the door behind her. Her alarmed friend, a young brunette woman asked what was wrong, but Rochelle was too focused on her target down the hallway. She thought she imagined it, but when she saw what looked like the tail end of a green cloak draping low behind a tall blonde man—she leapt from the door.
“Sorry girl! Be right back!” she yelped behind her.
Rochelle sped walked down the hallway, turning the corner until she saw his golden head come into view. She noticed that the commander was talking with another soldier she didn’t recognize, someone just as tall as Erwin and broad-shouldered. Her breathing billowed as she steadied her breath, cupping her auburn lock behind her ear as she approached the commander of the Scouts. ‘Hope this plan works…’
“Commander Erwin, sir?”
Erwin’s face turned, his body halting along with Mike, who curiously followed Erwin’s eyesight. She bit her lip as she approached, her steps small. “Yes? How can I help you?” He marked the green horse symbol on her jacket, his attention caught by suppressed astonishment. ‘Military police? All the way out here? Didn’t see the Interior whiffing this out so quickly…’ he assumed. He turned fully while Mike stood off to the side. Rochelle’s words jammed in her throat as she held a cloud of warmth in her chest. ‘Crap…’
“Uhh—”
“You can go on miss?”
Her eyes widened as she jerked her head to the side, then back, finding a way to anchor herself beneath his tall figure. She finally clasped her hands. “My name is Rochelle! I’d like to speak about the woman you found outside the wall, if you don’t mind.”
Erwin studied her with the calmness of a brewing storm. His eyes narrowed, searching for answers within her hazel ones. “Miss that topic I’m not at liberty to discuss. Did someone send you here?” Mike’s head turned at hearing the commander’s tone, wondering if he should step in—He uncrossed his arms. Sensing the strain, Rochelle waved her hands, plastering a smile on her face. “No no—oh no!” she shook her head, “n-no I’m here by myself. I just came to deliver a basket to my friend down the hall.”
Erwin’s eyes stayed on her, his mind analyzing variables. “Then how do you know about the woman found outside the walls?”
“Commander I actually ran into her—well not ran, but I found her at her bed and I had a pleasant conversation with her.”
“You did?” Erwin’s heart sank a fraction, wondering what D’jai shared with the young cadet before him, or she at least appeared to be. Though it seemed like an innocent exchange, he couldn’t let himself be complacent with this situation. This variable he missed. ‘What exactly does she want to talk about? Just asking out of curiosity and intrigue…?’ If it was just intrigue, then he understood her angle. If not, he’d soon find out.
Rochelle nodded. “Yes! And I learned that she doesn’t exactly have a place to stay—”
Erwin raised his eyebrows, holding his hands behind his back. “Miss you must have heard her wrong. She has the Survey Corps protecting her. Therefore, she is in good hands. She has a place to stay at HQ.” Despite his wariness of her intentions, he let her continue.
“Yes, she did mention that, but I wanted to propose an interesting alternative that perhaps did not cross your mind.”
“Oh really? And what other safe alternative could there be regarding where she is stationed?”
Rochelle felt her armpits moisten, hoping the commander found her entreaty amiable, yet reasonable. “Sir, I learned that she doesn’t know this world—or at least doesn’t remember it. Right now she is…fragile, and I just don’t want to see someone like her crushed before she gets her footing again, not by the Interior or Garrison.” She pauses, searching for any twitch or change in his expression—nothing but rapt silence. She shifted her footing as she tried to ignore Mike’s stare. A child’s cry wailed in the distance of the clinic, but her appeal didn’t stop. “If you let her stay in Stohess for a while, I could help her adjust—teach her how to move among people again. She’d still be under your protection, but…with a gentler hand.”
Erwin’s muteness felt heavier, his silence cutting through the distant child’s cry like a blade. ‘Stohess? That’s a ways away from HQ—but why is this MP showing such an interest to help her…’
Deep down he knew why. It was for the same reason he found her worth keeping like one does when they’ve struck Gold or Iceburst Stone. Because he saw the MP found D’jai interesting. Unique. Exclusive. Uncommon. But more than that—for him—a key to answers he had yet to discover that she may subconsciously know. Or it was something else. He couldn’t say.
His lips twitched, curving slightly. “Hmm, I have to say your entreaty carries some weight I haven’t considered.” He no doubt found her proposal stimulating. Having D’jai placed in a civilian environment may be what she needs to regain her lost memories in contrast to dwelling in a stern, stressful environment like the militant barracks. At least not at this time. ‘Maybe having a female companion who can draw D’jai out of herself would help her emotionally and regain any confidence she’d lost. Her very own advocate, even if she is an MP.’ He decided he would do some digging into this Rochelle to make sure she was someone exemplary, someone he could use at least for the time being.
He exhaled, clearing his throat with a small grin. “I suppose you have a place in mind for her to stay? In a good neighborhood?” He eyed Mike, trying to gauge his opinion through some type of telepathic connection. Mike crossed his arms, wanting to roll his eyes that Erwin was even entertaining her proposal. ‘Putting her in the hands of a MP? Incompliant as they are…nothing but trouble…’ he thought, but kept his opinion to himself. He’s not surprised, for Erwin may have a plan he wasn’t aware of.
Her smile relaxed as she inclined her head. “Yes I do! I have an apartment that I work from every now and then, which I share with my brother. But I can easily watch out for her there!”
He nodded. “So D’jai is interested in staying with you? She confirmed?”
“Yes she is! Believe me, I’m not making it up. You can ask her yourself.”
“Don’t worry. I will confirm with her shortly.” Erwin’s gaze lingered on her, his sight narrowing for a long moment. The wind shifted as nurses passed by with trays, the clank of medical tools and soft heels bouncing off the floor into their ears.
“So you do understand what you are offering then? If she is harmed, or trouble finds her, it will fall on you first?”
Rochelle nodded, her hands coupled like in prayer. “I understand. I believe it will be worth it. She shouldn’t feel alone in this.”
Erwin grunted, exhaling softly through his nose. “Hmm. Very well. Right now she’ll remain in the Scouts’ custody. But you’ll be her advocate until she proves herself. I’ll be watching closely, Rochelle. Do not forget.”
Her shoulders straightened, clutching her hand against her chest in the shape of a balled heart. “I won’t forget Commander,” she saluted.
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The dust of twilight nudged over the horizon, casting minuscule stars above the misty heads of Trost townsfolk. The humid air clung to Levi’s hair strands, his body carrying an adrenaline that hummed in his bones, bracing himself to hear the next steps in Erwin’s great play of things. His legs carried a dampness of uncertainty he didn’t shake off, but his mind coiled on the thoughts of his irritating, probing conversation with Hange and what he would soon hear from Erwin’s own mouth—a mouth he knew to reveal things on his own timetable, not given freely. The commander’s tongue was steady, but it always left him on edge, as if there was something his mind missed that Erwin secretly coded only for himself to decipher. And he hated surprises. Anomalies. His brown boots cracked as they scraped against the wet cobblestone street, searching for the Inn where they were designated to meet. His damp cloak remained taut as his eye noticed the faint glow of light at a corner of the street— the rickety Inn was in full view.
The smell of horse dung clouded his nostrils as he stepped towards the entrance, the bell chiming overhead with a push as his eyes searched for his comrades. Tables were neatly lined in abstract rows, with a few guests occupying their seats. Shining candlelit lamps set in contrast to the approaching swell of darkness, which crept into the district and filled the building’s atmosphere. Two blonde heads bobbed in a booth in a corner of the room, close to a window that Levi found within a few seconds. Mike’s head lifted in Levi’s direction, waving his hand to usher him hither. Dude must have smelled me a mile away. Hope he put that nose to good use, otherwise, we’re just wasting time—, his mind tranced as he walked closer to their table. What did he get from his exchange with that woman? Hopefully it’s nothing…but if not, we’re not meeting at this grungy Inn for nothing… Mike slid closer to the window, making room for Levi as he unbuttoned his cloak to drape it on the corner seat, the rain droplets slowly running dry off onto the floor.
Steam long gone, three teacups filled with liquid sat on their table, but Levi wasn’t there for that type of tea. His expression was flat, but his narrowed eyes betrayed his impatience as he looked at Erwin, who sat across from him with folded hands. “Glad you finally made it.”
“Tch. Not here to talk about me and my travels. What did you guys find out?” he crossed his arms, “found out that this was an utter waste of time yet?”
“I doubt that’s what you truly believe Captain.”
His eyebrow lifted, a small twitch. Hange’s voice rang in his ears which never really went away. ‘Her skin is…rather striking…’ Ignoring the comment, Levi glanced at Mike as he sat back, his weight adjusted to the seat. “Mike, what you get from the woman. Anything off?”
His comrade inclined his head with a faint tilt, rubbing his hound-like nose as if to jar his memory. Thoughtful as his words flowed. “Strange…nothing extremely off. Yet— she seems… innocent. She smells—,” he paused as his eyes drifted to the smudge of rain droplets on the window, “—like light rain and soil…but somehow far away from here. I can’t really describe it. No titan stench, yet a metallic scent is present. Too abstract, but not enough to pinpoint her to anything dangerous.”
Levi exhaled sharply at the end of Mike’s words, turning back ahead at his commander. “Sounds like a load of poetic crap to me.” Before Erwin could respond, he cut in quickly. “But Mike said the word ‘strange,’ and ‘metallic, ’ so there is something. Hopefully, nothing important unless she found her way to some mineral deposits we don’t know about?”
Erwin’s eyes flicked at him as a small curve formed at the corner of his mouth. He lifted his half-drunk tea. “For someone who marks as disinterested, you sure are chatty about this Levi. Had a change of heart?”
He scoffed as his eyes searched for a waitress of some kind—if the inn had any at all. “Just making my rounds. Thought that was why I was in on this case, to give my unbiased perspective.”
“I wouldn’t call it unbiased yet. You’ve already shared plenty of opinions before even meeting her.”
Levi blinked, peering down at the tea he figured was meant for him. He reached for it—the porcelain cup cool against his calloused fingers. “What’s her name?”
“D’jai. That’s her name.”
Levi huffed at the sound of it. “How you spell it? Sounds weird.”
“D.J.A.I.”
He let go of the cup, leaning back instead. “Guess her parents thought they were being creative.” Erwin shrugged, waving a nearby waitress to their table. After Erwin requested more tea, he gave his two cents. “I would think that’s something to keep in mind. The girl doesn’t even remember her last name, let alone remember any family members within the district. So you can imagine that this transition for her would be a long, drawn-out one.”
“So she is amnesiac.” He framed it like a statement, not a question.
“Yes. It’s confirmed.”
The bell chimed, signaling the arrival of another visitor. The waitress came back with a hot kettle, the water steaming as it poured into a new cup for all three men. Levi ignored her polite smile as his mind replayed their last briefing in Erwin’s office, wondering what his place was in all this. Just my luck. Though he complained inwardly, a small hole inside him formed from the memory of his life in the disgusting underground. He knew what it felt like to be alone, with no one to turn to. To be abandoned and left to dry with nothing but your own wits. He wondered if going through this case was worth the trouble or even necessary, but that thought alone left a faint seam inside his chest, a subtle mark of vague understanding. Even he didn’t know his last name. Still, he would know more once he inspected her up close, but his skepticism came out anyway.
“Are you sure this is worth the trouble? Us getting involved?” He lifted his steeped tea as Erwin spoke. “Yes, I believe it is. As you know, I deployed a few scouts to investigate the area where she was found. Nothing yet, but they are still searching, and we will soon be joining.”
“Hn. Hope my men don’t die on the job over something that could be utterly nothing.”
Erwin agreed with his sentiments, but Levi was not expecting the next appalling words to spit from his commander’s mouth. Erwin cleared his throat in a deep grumble. “She will be in the hands of an MP. In Stohess.”
Levi’s gut contracted. The liquid burned his lips as he jolted slightly, settling the cup back to the table with a small furrow. He did a double-take, or rather, his tone dropped by five degrees. “What?”
Mike exhaled, sipping his own tea with a small blow of breath. He sniffed his drink, the thought of a calm D’jai appearing in his mind from their latest meeting the day before, when they confirmed she desired to go to Stohess. Now he got to hear Levi's take.
Erwin exhaled sharply, leaning back in his seat. “I know it’s unorthodox, but I believe the woman she formed an attachment to would do her good. I did a background check on her: Rochelle Manner. She’s in good standing according to reports. I already have plans to have them both under watch. Just a temporary setting until D’jai gets back on her feet.”
Levi huffed as if to suppress a laugh that never came. “Attachment? Are you kidding me? This isn’t a pony ride Erwin. If she’s going to be under the Scouts’ care, she needs to be within our bounds. She doesn’t get any say in where she is placed. Handing her off the MP’s will—”
“Given the situation D’jai is in,” Erwin voice sliced cold, yet saying her name aloud had a softening effect, “it’s possible she might have been under MP jurisdiction regardless. Having someone like Rochelle assigned gives us leverage—someone who can possibly influence higher-ranking officers if she needs to, including paperwork.”
Levi shook his head, lifting his tea for another sip, his composure steady with mockery. “Possibly, huh?” The drink slipped hot down his throat. “Willing to bet your pearly whites on that?” Mike scoffed but held his tongue. Levi leaned over slightly, his elbows pressing against the grain of wood. “You really think a Military Officer’s the best choice for someone who’s barely speaking again?”
“On record, yes. Even more reason.” His voice remained calm, the patience he reserved for Levi’s tone marked with understanding. “She’ll need access to medical review boards and official housing papers. The MP’s control most of those channels. If we keep her here under our supervision, we’ll be accused of interference before her case even begins.”
Mike grunted, but he sniffed that Erwin was onto something. His arms folded as he leaned forward. Still, he pushed. “You’re covering our backs with bureaucracy again?”
“I’m ensuring she isn’t taken from us by force. Having an MP as our face card will prevent that.”
“So you’re gambling that this Rochelle is one of the decent ones.”
“I’m counting on her to be competent enough to keep up with appearances. If D’jai stays with us too early, they’ll ask questions about her origins—questions I’m not ready to answer yet or know off hand. The Garrison may not care, nor have power, but once her paperwork goes through the legal system, she’ll only be considered a ‘civilian survivor under observation’, which is not enough to keep her stable. She’ll just end up as a phantom. Homeless and forgotten.”
The window in the wall fogged up, the clear specks of rain blurring from outside pressed in on them with hushing ears. Erwin paused, which only emphasized his next set of words. “Rochelle’s position buys us time, and time is what we need to make her an official citizen of the walls.” He looked between both men, the light from the lantern carving sharp angles into their faces.
Levi’s eyebrows lifted, his mind connecting the dots of Erwin’s strategy. His lips pressed into a fine line, raising his hand for another sip of tea—lukewarm. 'Why the hell is this so important to him? Going through all this trouble for someone who probably can’t even read straight? Sounds like a charity case, but…what’s more to this?'
Though silent, logic and reasoning seemed to shine supreme, winning both meditating men by a silver hair. Mike leaned back, his agreement with Levi unspoken, yet tethered. “So what you’re saying is that if we don’t go through the MPs, she’ll never be allowed to walk free inside the Walls. At all.”
Erwin’s eyes relaxed faintly, sensing the push he’s been receiving easing off a notch. “Right.”
Mike’s voice lowered, his lens scanning his surroundings. “A falsified record. Next step. ID card.”
“Though forged,” Levi quipped, his tone dry with a pinch of bite. He paused as he scanned Erwin’s face, as if he could discover the silent ticking of thoughts in his eccentric brain. “You really going to go through with it.”
“Not fake. Provisional ID Card. A formality so she isn’t detained the moment she steps beyond the clinic gates.”
“Hn. Same difference.”
“Unlike you who received your citizenship through the military, it’s expensive for displaced or unidentified civilians to stay above ground.”
“Yeah. Don’t have to remind me.” He exhaled. “What’s the story you’re giving her?”
“That she’s a displaced civilian from Wall Rose. Records lost in the chaos. It’s believable enough, given recent events.” He unbuttoned his cloak, allowing the circulation to air around his shoulders. “Once Rochelle does her part at the Registry Office, they’ll be too busy to scrutinize the simple case once they glance at her seal.”
Another thoughtful exhale, his tongue turning dry by the endless noise of their conversation. He wasn’t sure if the MPs were that stupid not to check their records thoroughly, but even he knew Erwin was likely right regarding their negligence; something so small yet simple as this operation could be halted if someone decided to be thorough at the office on any given day.
The bell chimed again as a visitor left the establishment in a hurry. Levi eyed the shivering guest through the window as his tongue rolled. “And her name stays the same… just D’jai?. With a D?” Saying it aloud felt weird in his mouth, as if he was finally acknowledging the woman he’d seen in his mind’s eye. ‘Mysterious skin. Weird hair texture.’ A hazy silhouette drawn in his brain, patiently waiting to be filled with color.
Erwin nodded. “She doesn’t recall a family name according to the doctor’s report. It’s better not to invent one. The less on paper, the better.”
Levi looked away, the seats of tables in the main room half empty, half full, a crack of laughter echoing off the dreary candlelit walls. “Guess we got that in common,” he muttered, dry yet thoughtful at the end. A small silence settled among them, comfortable yet weighted. A pause of mental stimulation and acceptance, tied in a giant scout package that Erwin loomed over their heads like a heavy cloud. “So you believe she’ll be safe enough to walk around with a piece of scrap paper in her pocket? Or purse? Whatever…”
“Safe enough not to be stopped and dragged away, unlike the rest of the nameless in these districts.”
Levi’s hand rubbed over his mouth as another thought appeared—an image that made his heart thud involuntarily. His mind conjured a woman being dragged away into a mysterious alley or hauled into a suspicious wagon in the underground. Not a place for someone like her, not anyone. He held his jaw, saying, “And you’re sure this MP has enough integrity to decline a bribe? If this woman looks as unique as I’ve heard her to be, she could be an easy trafficking target.”
Erwin waited a second to respond, bracing his nerves for another push back in his negotiation, something he’s been polishing like a knife for years. “I’m not worried about that Levi. I’m not putting my full trust in her to do the job to the letter. But I do trust you.”
Irritation speckled behind his grey eyes as he realized the sound of his new role, tapping his finger against the wrinkle of his jacket sleeve. Though flat-faced, his eyes turned to small daggers. “You are not putting her under me.” His words were stern enough to stir the air, enough to make Mike glance at his profile. A continuous plop of surprises every time a new sub-topic seemed to appear regarding this woman, and now that he was elicited personally, he seemed to contradict himself. He was still getting used to the idea of her importance at all, and now this? He couldn’t make sense of it, why Erwin put him, out of all soldiers in the Scouts, to go on babysitting duty. He imagined the looks and gossip he would hear from his Special Operations Squad, asking him questions he hardly knew the answers to himself. But at the end of the day, it didn’t really matter.
Erwin matched his stare, but it wasn’t irritation that floated in its depths. Just a look of fact that said, ‘this is how it’s going to be.’
“I already have, “he continued, “You’ll keep an eye on her discreetly as she adjusts to the environment inside of Stohess, within the walls. You are also free to use other soldiers to accompany you. Extra eyes on the target, more success at finding the answers we need.”
‘You’ve gotta be kidding me,’ he wanted to say, but he held his tongue. An order was an order. He knew deep down why Erwin chose him. He was too thorough, cautious, direct, and unafraid, more so than his other comrades, including Squad Leaders like Mike next to him. But not only that, he was known as ‘Humanity’s Strongest Soldier’, a title of honor, placed on him by the Scouts and people of the walls, even if most of them had never even seen him in person. His strength, his greatest asset, was the reason. He carried his power with pride but was never one to make a spectacle of it. But now he found his strongest asset was about to be used as someone’s caregiver. But he wasn’t one to blurt without thinking, most of the time.
His jaw flexed as he steadied his finger against his empty cup, eyes narrowed. “Erwin, you know I don’t babysit.”
The commander leaned on his elbow, his voice changing to a low hum. “Call it Reconnaissance. I have a feeling there is more to her than we expect there to be.” 'Hn. We. Hilarious.' “What do you expect to find out from her? How to faint and be found in the middle of Titan territory?”
“That’s the question. And much more. Once she gains back her confidence and a sliver of memories, I’m one hundred percent sure she’ll give us some answers, which is why I need you to take this case with all seriousness.”
He finally sat back against the seat, not realizing the tapping of his foot was in motion until the bell chimed again. He saw a woman with a shawl appearing from behind the wall, holding a child’s hand firmly, yet with a gentle touch of care. The image of his mother appeared in his thoughts; the compassion and love she once smothered him as a boy was lodged between memory, suppression, and something else he didn’t want to name. The memory disappeared as his eyes peered back at his stoic commander. His posture taut and narrow, but Levi was the same with tunnel vision like the barrel of a gun. “Don’t worry Erwin. I’ll get everything arranged once I see the situation up close.”
```
The next two days went slowly, like curdling milk on a warm day. The normal sun streaks D’jai saw each morning failed to spatter on her blanket from the window across the room. 'A cloudy day', she noted. Rain had drenched the streets during the night, making the scent of humid air and steel ever more intense as it seeped through the window. The smell of new patients that once ravaged D’jai’s nose was becoming more bearable each day the longer she stayed in the almost-sterile building, every nuance of dipping sunlight wearing the garment of slow-growing grass. But today was different. Her chest was bubbly, her heart ready to sing with anticipation as she realized the importance of the day ahead of her. Now that it was here, though, she couldn’t help but feel a swivel of anxiety reveal itself from the other side of an invisible coin that she held concealed. Commander Erwin had already confirmed, along with Mike, her new desire to stay with Rochelle for a time in the Stohess District. Even though she tried to keep her internal excitement wrapped away at his agreement, she still pondered if she was making the right decision for herself. For her life. Which stranger to place her genuine trust? Either way, she wasn’t sure which decision was right for her; thus, overthinking bounced on and off her thoughts all morning.
With a pencil in hand, she held the journal that Dr. Bauer had given her days ago, a gift she felt she would treasure immensely during her stay within the walls. Walls she hasn’t even seen yet, but she decided to make her home inwardly. The journal, as of now, was the only thing grounding her in her last moments in her clinic bed as she waited patiently for her new friend to arrive.
The night before, she had pulled her textured plait loose, trying to investigate its state in a mirror within a small private room. Her strands—springy yet dry— looked dull and limp compared to the luscious locs of other women she’d seen walking in and out of the clinic room. Not knowing what to do, she pulled her hair back to mimic a low ponytail, her hair long enough for it, but she wondered how she had gotten her hair in a braid in the first place. She searched her memory archive but found nothing. No images of hands that could show how to place her fingers against her scalp. As if the weight of a simple hairdo was a hidden key she couldn’t turn—something snapped. Seconds ticked by as her breathing grew ragged, streams of tears gushing from her eyes at the simple fact she couldn’t remember how to braid her hair—a missing part of her identity she sought to get back. The gravity of her situation was bawled, an emotional release in the private room that caught the attention of a nearby nurse who coddled her for a time.
The sad memory of last night played in her head on repeat as she clutched the journal, exhaling softly as she felt her eyes well with salty tears, but fought them back not to spill. ‘D’jai…not now. Not here…’ she cooed to herself.
On learning of D’jai’s outburst last night, Dr. Brauer suggested she start writing or even drawing, whatever came easily for her to express herself, to get the screws in her brain moving. He mentioned it could also act as a therapy for her emotional well-being. She leaned into the ideas, deciding to doodle on its blank pages with different shapes and strokes since words didn’t come easily for her at present.
A familiar voice broke her concentration. “Hey D’jai!” Rochelle hollered.
Her head turned in the direction of the door as she saw her auburn-haired friend waltzing into the room. D’jai smiled, noting Rochelle carrying a long white bag in both arms with a playfulness in her step. The bag appeared airy with hardly any weight inside. Her head tilted by reflex, curious as she straightened her back. “What’s in the bag?”
Rochelle smirked, placing the bag on D’jai’s lap as she slowly removed the mystery item. “D’jai come on. You know I wouldn’t let you walk around in those rag tags in town.”
Before she could respond, D’jai’s eyes widened, a silent inhale drew as Rochelle’s hands pulled out a light-tanned gown from the bag. Rochelle held up the garment, not giving a toot about the stares elicited from her arrival. A beige, simple dress with a cinched sash at the waist was hanging before her hand. The simplicity of it, the thought and care behind the purchase, made D’jai’s heart sink. She was stunned at her gesture, covering her mouth to prevent the rising heat on her face. She almost stammered, but she looked at Rochelle who seemed to expect her reaction. “Rochelle—you bought this…for me…?”
Rochelle swiveled the dress as she spoke with a sparkle in her hazel eyes. “Now I know what you’re thinking. You don’t have to pay me back or anything—Just think of it as a ‘get well’ present, like a card, but instead…it’s a dress!”
The thought didn’t even have time to form until she mentioned it. She gripped her journal, feeling its leather texture for grounding. ‘How much did it cost? Can I pay her back?’ Her hand reached her hair unconsciously, feeling her dry curls yet again in a frizzy ponytail. Her brows curved, still annoyed by how unkept she looked.
“Ugh, if only I had a scarf,” she muttered aloud, but more so to herself.
“Hmm?” Rochelle lowered the dress as she bit the inside of her cheek. She stepped forward, closer to D’jai’s side with a raised hand. “Oh! You’re worried about your hair?” ‘I wonder what it feels like…’?
Her hand hovered curiously, but stopped short, remembering boundaries. She smiled softly. “…May I?” she queried. D’jai nodded, allowing Rochelle to feel her strands. The texture of D’jai’s hair was foreign to Rochelle. Soft. Coarse. Yet dry, all at once. She pinched a strand between her fingers. Her hair could reach her shoulders if let free, but when she gave a curl a pull, it hung lower than she expected. Rochelle has seen curly hair before, but never with such a tighter quality. “Wow,” she marveled, not realizing her breath escaped. D’jai winced, her back tingling at the modest intimacy of a friendship moment.
“Wow? Is that a…good… ‘wow’?
Rochelle kept her grin, her finger angling for the hair tie that held D’jai’s hair intact. An idea passed her vision, a little pick-me-up that could help D’jai feel better about her hair situation. She knew when something was dry, moisture could bring back balance. “Mmm—maybe you just need a little water and oil to hydrate your hair. I have a friend who deals with something similar. What d’you think?”
“Um, I guess so…”
“Ok. Let me do your hair before you leave. That way, along with your new dress, you’ll look your part when you step outside. People notice first impressions after all.” D’jai couldn’t agree more. If there was anything she did remember, it was that she did care about her appearance, and she was tired of wearing her dingy white clinic gown every day. She turned to Rochelle with a nod as she gently pulled the hair tie free. Her hair spilled, though stiffly. Rochelle giggled at her eagerness as she stepped back. ‘Cool…and different. But a touch-up should be all that is needed,’ she thought.
D'jai fingered through her hair gently, careful not to snag any knots as Rochelle went to borrow a spray bottle with water, a soft hairbrush, and light oil from a nurse. When she came back, she saw the volume of D’jai’s hair in a fluffed-out state that caught her by surprise, which indeed reached her shoulders—long and full. Her hands full with supplies, she stepped slowly towards the new sight, seeing her beauty in a different wholesome light in her white gown. “Your hair doesn’t even look horrible, even like that…that volume!” She took her jacket off, knowing her words would elicit a comfortable laugh from D’jai.
After about twelve minutes of pulling and water spritzing, Rochelle braided her hair back in a large plait. It was a little challenging for her, but she was proud of her work. D’jai didn’t mind the girly hair session, for the feel of fingers on her scalp was soothing for her, along with the hair brushing and oils that were now simmering into her scalp. Her eyes brightened as she looked in a hand mirror Rochelle borrowed from the front desk, tucking out a curl by her ear, but a nurse came by her bed to check on her forehead injury—bad timing.
A cough rang out in the patient room, people entering and exiting the main entrance as D’jai’s nurse called for the doctor. Rochelle sat in an empty seat near her bed as the doctor approached, but as he sauntered towards them from across the room, Dr. Brauer replayed the scene he just witnessed a few minutes ago; D’jai finger detangling her hair, Rochelle running and coming back with supplies, the hair braiding session, and the content pleasing look on D’jai’s warm face when she looked in the hand mirror moments before the nurse startled her. Compared to the melancholy ambiance she vomited in the private room the night before, his heart warmed at the pleasant sight of seeing his patient in higher spirits the day she was supposed to be released.
The nurse stepped back as Dr. Brauer took over. After seeing no infection on her wound, he removed the bandage, dabbed a herbal ointment on the cut, and plastered a smaller gauze delicately. He stepped back, grabbing his clipboard that held papers he read off. He cleared his throat, compressing a blooming sensation that struck a nerve. “As a reminder to you D’jai, Commander Erwin passed down instructions, stating that you’re to be handed over into civilian care today. Arrangements have already been signed.” He flicked briefly at a grinning Rochelle, then back at D’jai’s attentive stare. “You’ll be under her roof for the time being. If any dizziness or bleeding returns, you’re to report to the closest clinic immediately, preferably this clinic.”
As the doctor spoke to D’jai about her transfer, Rochelle couldn’t help but notice the look on her new friend’s face as she listened to the brunette man. D’jai’s plump lips hinted at a faint smile, but the way her eyes glimmered up at Dr. Brauer held the trademark of a small crush, at least in Rochelle’s mind. She smirked to herself at the sight, legs crossed, wondering if D’jai even realized how dreamy she looked.
The man let his hand fall, clipboard dangling as he tilted his head down at D’jai, eyes warm and welcoming. “Alright D’jai, you’re all set,” the doctor affirmed.
The words hit D’jai like a bullet, clutching her chest as she viewed a standing Rochelle pulling the beige dress from behind her seat.
“Thank you Doctor!” Rochelle beamed.
“Thank you… Doctor.”
His smile widened a fraction, beaming a flash of teeth he didn’t mean to expose. “Anytime.”
As the doctor walked away, energy surged through her body, her excitement pulsing her legs to swing off the bed with her sock-covered feet touching the cool floor. She wasn’t sure what it was; The combination of the fact that she was leaving the clinic, the doctor smiling at her, or having a new friend who wants to look out for her? She accepted all of it. Warmth crept up her neck as she witnessed the image of Rochelle tiptoeing on her feet with giddiness. Rochelle’s hair plait swished as she extended a hand to D’jai, which she took with her utmost trust. “Ok D’jai, ready to try this baby on?”
D’jai laughed in response with a nod as Rochelle placed the dress in her arms, her nerves a mix of excitement, anticipation, and uncertainty as to what lay ahead of her.
````
Casting light from the sun plastered on the buildings of Trost, its citizens paddling and skipping under the rising biscuit in the sky that was too hot to greet with wandering eyes. The downpour the night before left no clouds in sight, just a clear blue expanse above the city going folk.
The clinic entrance door swung open as Rochelle held the door for D’jai. Her eyes adjusted to the bright light as she stepped through the doorframe, nervous energy brewing in her chest that she held steady with a small breath. The hem of her beige dress swayed against her calves as the sun nearly blinded her. Her hand raised, shielding her eyes while she descended a few steps of stairs. The smell of bread and damp stone was heavy in the air, the whiff making her stomach gurgle with hunger even though she had already eaten not long ago. The light oil in her hair made her strands glint against the sun’s rays, a minuscule sheen of dignity returned to her by Rochelle’s fingers, adding to her impression on the outside world. Her journal was clasped at her side, her thumb brushing its skin as she heard the murmurs of people, men and women, passing her line of sight with interest.
“Wow look at her…”
“Was she in the sun too long?”
She inhaled and exhaled slowly, closing her eyes briefly for a moment of calm. She never asked the probing question of why the gazes of people seemed to drift to her inside the clinic, but now that it was happening in a public setting, she couldn’t usher the dreary feeling down. She believed maybe it was normal for people to stare in this society, but it seemed displaced with her, like there was another emotion mixed with curiosity behind their eyes. She clenched her journal again, chaining herself to an inner rope like a lifeline. ‘Just like inside the clinic. But it’s ok. You can do this…’, she thought. She opened her eyes quickly before Rochelle could notice. Her friend’s grin softened as she looked back. “You ok? The sun’s too warm, right?”
“No, it’s perfect. Just a little humid.”
“Mmhm. Just don’t trip, ok? Watch your step.” Then that same glint returned as she stepped closer. “Don’t need you admiring your doctor too much.”
Her eyes widened as a nervous smile jumped to her lips, her head shaking. “What? No—the doctor? No there’s nothing there! No—I uh—"
Rochelle turned fully, breaking out into a giant laugh. “Girl you’re like an open book! I saw the way you were looking at him!”
“No I was not open in any way! He’s just a good man, that’s all.” She bit her lip. Was I that obvious?
Rochelle observed D’jai with quiet esteem, surprised by her sudden tone of defense and obvious hint of embarrassment. The girl in front of her, with a voice soft as silk, quickly turned into a bubbling brook. No doubt she was quiet, but it was laced with potential in discovering more about her personality and mannerisms, her true self slowly revealed in a domestic setting. The dress that clung to her body, plain as it was, stood out in contrast to the paleness of other civilians walking on the street, and she wondered if her amnesiac friend even noticed. She kept the thought noted as she gestured D’jai towards her, smirking. “Keep telling yourself if that helps you feel better.”
Her throat hitched, covering her smile as a small laugh passed her teeth. She stepped forward to match her friend’s pace, avoiding small pools on the cobblestones. Rochelle had already informed her in advance that there was a carriage waiting for them to exit the city, but they had a little time to explore if she wanted to. Rochelle has seen it all, but D’jai, who believed she came from the same place, felt a disconnect with everything she saw—rooftops, shops, signs, even clothing— and she wondered if a measure of time would reveal the answers she needed to learn the person she was deep down and her clouded origins.
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*A few minutes before the Clinic exit*
Levi stood, arms at his sides as he stared at the two wooden doors where their ‘patient’ was soon to exit. The wind picked up his cape, the scarce breeze prickling at his back. Standing at the corner street gave him a bird’s eye view of his surroundings so as not to miss any details or unforeseen incidents. His eyes scanned the motion of the passerby; children running towards mischief, women with baskets of bread, flowers, ointments, and whatever else they could fit on their arms. Nothing out of the ordinary, besides the steady beat of his heart that seemed to increase in the slow minutes that escaped reality. He rolled his shoulder at the involuntary anticipation that pumped his adrenaline, his curiosity piquing every waking second someone stepped through the door or even sauntered past it. His eyes stayed glued as if he would skip a page in a book and missed the climax. Erwin, ever still and silent himself, pushed his voice through Levi’s thoughts at his side. “She should be out any second now.”
“Yeah you keep saying that.”
“She may be taking her time. Can never rush someone who suffered a brain injury.”
“Right…” his voice trailed off, the image of the woman ticking his thoughts once more. He’d already been told how her skin was darker than the norm, a detail he didn’t view of importance, for there were many people who got sun tan from outdoor work. Then the topic of her hair slid in his ear, another detail he viewed as shallow as the first. Levi was never mesmerized by appearances, not like they’ll help anyone survive a Titan attack. No, just an aspect of what distinguishes humans from animals. To recognize beauty from ugliness.
But then the door swung open, a hand holding it wide as a figure stepped out—attentive and curious. His grey eyes flicked, scanning her small form from the distance between them. Her exposed skin was warm, brown like caramel candy. The sun seemed to burnish her skin warmer into a dusky bronze, a skin hue he didn’t expect to strike him until it was too late. He didn’t know where her tan began or ended, or maybe that was just her natural shade. Then her dress, taupe with a small sash at the waist. Modest and simple. Even her hair was braided into a plait with a curl at the end, glinting under the sunrays like a grained pole. He expected her to come out wearing rags, disoriented at the sights, and maybe even timid, but instead he was met with a figure that held a small smile, laughing faintly at something Rochelle said as if the world hadn’t done her over. He didn’t realize his lips were parted until he inhaled a breath through his nose, clenching his fists to steady the new image of the woman in his mind. This was not what he was expecting.
'A pretty thing…different though.' The thought slipped before he caught it. And at that moment, he didn’t know if what his eyes saw before him was going to come with annoyance, pain, or something different that could be worse.
Hello! I saw your post and I just had to take a chance!! Would you be willing to do some Happy Chaos (Guilty Gear Strive) x reader (fem preferably, but gn works!) headcanons? I’m just looking for something, I’m so surprised there is barely anything for him😔 (All the same, you don’t have to do this, no pressure).
oh ofc! it's a bit short and i'm keeping it sfw for now but if you'd like anymore let me know!
HAPPY CHAOS x FEM!READER HCS (SFW)
at first he admittedly thought you were going to be a boring prospect. most people are, hence his flair for causing drama and shoving folks into life threatening scenarios.
but you managed to survive one of his....dumber stunts. and catch his attention. despite everything he threw at you. you weren't deterred or seriously injured. bravo!
he decides to "take you under his wing" for a protégé's sake. in case he can't fulfill his duties with I-No. well, he now has a """"back up project.""""
he isn't huge known for being extremely affectionate in public (unless it suits his manipulating in the moment) but he'll indulge you because you're important to him.
that being said, when he is affectionate in private he's very...clingy. he doesn't appreciate you being out of his sight for too long.
given how erratic he can be he does enjoy spontaneous gifts or even trips at times, sometimes to far-flung places.
being his "protégé"/current obsession, he enjoys using having you help assist him with fucking with people. the messier the better. bonus points if you're as good at manipulating strangers as he is.
in fact, he sees you as his equal, the one of the only ones deserving of his company, time, or respect. of course he won't admit it though.
the first time he SINCERELY says he loves you is when you two are in the middle of a heated discussion about something ridiculous. you think he's joking, given his usual antics, but then it later clicks. he then proceeds to take you out to a nice....stolen....dinner once you sheepishly shuffle back to him and mutter you love him too.
“Hello! I thought this over a bit, and I’m going to repost this girl as a giveaway/raffle character for some of those on my fanfic page, and others included
╭ 1: Have to be following my “TH”/or “Tumblr” account.
{New Followers Welcomed!!}
2: Put like and put a “✨” in the comments of the character’s page.{still in “TH”}.
3: {alternative #2) or like this post and comment “✨”.
4: Like one other random post of mine. (Toyhouse or Tumblr)
5: That’s all! Pretty short^^💀
—————————
Inspired: Was looking at the cookie run character ✨Golden Cheese Cookie✨, mixed with a default from Sky: Children of the Light 💡, I’ve been playing Sky a lot lately, and those graphics deserve some type of global award😩✋🏽🤚🏽✨Had to have a little bit of neutral themes, and it ended up looking like cottage core🤷🏽♀️ And I may have wanted a thiccy…..————————
Original 🍑 character No.1 °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° Starting price: 5$ Highest bid(current)- Autobuy Price: 50$ Minimum bid increment: 5$ °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° Information + Rules : Reply to the "Bid Here" Do not place a false bid Only can accept PayPal(via) °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° Ends in 1 week from today. , SxL. "This is a test to see if cuter ocs sell more. ° #adopt #adopts #adoptables #adoptablesopen #nsfw #nsfwart #nsfwartist #nsfwadopt #hentai #anime#anime girls #cute #nsfwtwitter #adoptsopen https://www.instagram.com/p/CA7bL8sAwi1/?igshid=1jm9mclmec8bo
Got words. No refs, looking for the first image of two custom characters. Fairly humanoid, full body, looking for reasonable prices. Sketches preferred!
So, I’ve started commission hunting! I’m looking for some self insert and f/o art or drabbles/ficlets!
If you are a self ship artist or author, or know someone who does self ship art that is taking commissions, please either send them my way or PM me! If you aren’t an artist yourself, please reblog to help this go around!
My budget is about $15-$20 so show me what you got!
gummygunk
annaxmalina
areudirty
ellievsbear
izzy806
