#— ic | that means i'm abnormal. . . probably because i've seen far too many abnormal things.

[moved--naitfall]

@gyofukuki replied:

isa vc: beast levi emerges victorious!

Not a beast, Isabel. Wrong choice of words, Isabel.

[naitfall]

@lausticzt asked:

farlan, erwin and hange c:< fmk

Send my muse a fuck, marry, kill.

He had to make a CHOICE. The choice he’d regret the least.

There was no doubt about Farlan. ❝ Marry Farlan. He’s been my partner for years. ❞ Partner. There are many ways to interpret this. And yet Levi doesn't intend to specify.

Erwin and Hange. There was no doubt they both were valuable members of the Survey Corps. Yet, on a more personal level . . . ❝ Fuck Erwin Smith. ❞ Again, there are two ways to interpret this, and the look of unspoken suppressed fury doesn't quite help to make sense of what he actually means.

Levi won't play by the rules of such a tasteless game.

[moved-naitfall]

@worldhell asked:

" i stayed. " - from farlan !!!

the receiver has told the sender that they haven't slept for several days due to intense nightmares, and asks them to stay the night so that they might be able to sleep. send in " i stayed. " for the receiver to waken the next morning and find the sender to still be sitting by their bedside, having stayed the whole night to ensure they slept.

Change. Contrary to popular belief, Levi despised change of things. Adaptability may be a strength of his — he'd be the first to change himself whenever needed in order to survive under any circumstances — but far too attached to any sentiments made as he was, far too accustomed to letting go of everything important, he'd come to despite change. If only he could go back to their first home, the place Farlan and Isabel made their own. If only he could go back to the same morning routine from when his squad was still alive. If only he didn't have to witness the command of the Survey Corps change hands. Far too attached, yet the first to deny the shackles of the past in order to keep moving forward.

Suddenly, they had found themselves in a situation where nothing was the same. A world without Titans, a dream far too unrealistic to have come true. Enemies to their supposed homeland Paradis — the two of them had nowhere to belong, not really, citizens of the underground, of darkness. Having killed sacrificed one of their own ( they weren't that unfamiliar with it, were they? ), someone placed under his care, Eren, the one Levi used to believe was humanity's hope. Having survived long after they had submitted to certain death.

Farlan was alive. They had lost everything along the way, but they hadn't lost each other. Fighting was over, even if only temporarily. Fighting for their lives was over.

He couldn't recall when was the last time he had slept in a bed, mattress and all. Their roles reversed, the one sitting in the chair watching after him, being Farlan. For long Levi hadn't been able to sleep at all, his mind beginning to deteriorate as days passed and he couldn't close his eyes for longer than a few minutes. Insomnia had kept him company for years, since he lost his mother, but its leash had never been this tight, suffocating him, until he couldn't any longer breathe on his own. Weakness of body and mind wasn't entirely unfamiliar to him, yet this would make it the first time he'd allow the other see him in this pathetic state ( a state he couldn't help )— or so he thought.

Who would have thought, nightmares would come to haunt him the most when the real nightmare was over? He hadn't exactly asked Farlan to stay — the two didn't need words to communicate. The other had noticed, the only one who watched him same way Levi watched others, with piercing concern. ❝ Thank you. ❞ Showing gratitude wasn't what was painful, but once again relying on him, once again placing more weight on his shoulders than he was supposed to carry. His driving force he had been for many years — living for Farlan, to protect him, care for him, stay human for him, from when they were both young and full of grand dreams of sunlight. How could Levi keep holding him down, to his own darkness? If only he wasn't certain Farlan wouldn't let go.

He grabbed the cane by his bedside, attempting to get up with intention to get to the kitchen, before deciding otherwise, a sigh following his frustration. ❝ Have you eaten anything? ❞ Still recovering, still healing, still struggling on getting used to his body failing him. He wasn't supposed to be moving much, but he couldn't stay in one place either. Stubborn even when pain meddled with his ability to think, to act, to pretend to be his normal self.

[naitfall-ii]

spezialistin asked:

“ i've got nowhere else to be.” ( @sogekihei )

hurt comfort prompts

What was she fighting for? A more just society? A new order of things? Retaliation ? Heroes and villains often were sides of the same coin — abusing power, forcing their sense of morality on those who lacked in strength or will. Levi, having been labeled with both names, never claimed to belong to any. Morality to him, was another mystery meant to remain unsolved. Was the heart meant to follow the rules society had set — adjust to the norms time and catastrophe had shaped through the eons of human existence — or was it meant to listen to its own rhythm, ignoring all else? Another question, whose answer would remain secret, while he battled for his own ideals, whether right or wrong.

Looking back at his years as a criminal, he saw a cornered man, trying to earn his place in the world using the only means he ever had known. His hands, stained with blood, as much as hers was. Did he have regrets for who he used to be? If so, he wouldn't be the man he was to this day. If so, they wouldn't be standing in front of one another. Time had taught him one could keep moving forward, only that way — free of shackles like guilt or regrets to bound him.

A shelter his place would be, even if endangering the fragile peace he had recently found. Deciding his course of action, guided by what his instincts told him, what his eyes recognized in people, defying reason to normally command he shouldn't be harboring her. “ I see. ” Their estranged bond was meant to be tested — both sides forced to trust one other. He left the room for a moment, returning with what she'd need for a bath, and clean clothes that'd supposedly fit her. “ You should take a bath. I'll prepare dinner in the meantime. ” His way of giving her the space and time she needed for herself.

[naitfall]

Selfish, was human nature. Frail and ephemeral were their lives, and desperately they'd snatch anything they could lay their hands on, anything within their reach in this short chance at living — was it money, power, or the love and affection of another. It was natural, to be guided by one's own feelings alone. 

Levi was human. Most chose to deny that reality (himself included), the truth that the man they had entrusted their hopes and dreams wasn't invincible, someone who could easily die at any moment, someone who had feelings of his own. Levi was selfish, and Eren had seen it, for he had kept his eyes on him for far too long, trying to understand him, as if another of his acts of rebellion. ‘ Eren, look past your own feelings. ’ Since when could he lie so easily? He was no different, weak at heart, easy to place the blame on someone else. ‘ Why did YOU hesitate before handing over the injection? ’ The look of betrayal in his eyes. He had seen right through him. That he could still hope. ‘ I don't see how you could ever have predicted that Floch would bring the dying Commander here. ’ Eren was right. 

He had followed Erwin because he believed him to be different. Never in his life had Levi felt humiliated in the presence of someone. He couldn't understand where those eyes of his stared at. What he could see, what he fought for, how much of himself he had thrown away for a cause Levi once believed to be utterly selfless. He had chosen to join him, on the day he lost everything, because he failed to understand him. And yet, it was towards the end, when the mystery of his existence began to unfold before him. Kenny had given him the answer. He was no devil, he was human too, drunk on something to keep pushing on. A childhood dream, a dream he'd sacrifice everything for, even humanity. 

‘ Give up on your dreams and charge to your death. ’ He had made the choice for him. The selfless choice Erwin couldn't make himself. To save Armin, was Levi’s own selfish choice. He had chosen to save the boy, and let Erwin rest.

Ridiculous, for him to feel indebted, even when it wasn't ( was it? ) his intention to save him. To be met with eyes filled with gratitude, but also guilt — the guilt Levi couldn’t afford to dwell on. He'd wear his insecurities as apparent as ever. Doubting himself at every chance, the opposite of Erwin. Searching for meaning and sense, in a world seemingly lacking both. ❝ Why would I be? ❞ He leaned with his back against the wall, ice-blue eyes locked with his. He wanted him to openly admit those feelings, before they started to eat him away, before that self-consciousness of his became his downfall. Levi didn’t intend to give him the answer he wanted to hear. The answer where he could blame himself, for his choices.

the light in the infirmary is bright and warmthless, reflecting blindingly off the white sheets tucked into the mattress beneath where he sits, hands clutching wrinkles into the fabric.

he had insisted on being examined on return from shinganshina, convinced there was something wrong with him still. you can't get within a hair's width of death and come back fine, as if nothing had even happened. they'd looked him over top to bottom, listened to his heartbeat, made him take deep breaths to listen to his lungs and stick his tongue out to check his throat. n͟o͟t͟h͟i͟n͟g͟.

even so, he can't shake the feeling now that there is still something wrong with him. wrong with his s͟t͟o͟m͟a͟c͟h͟, he thinks. he hasn't eaten much since then, not when a crunch feels like bone and a tear like tendon. even so, hunger is not the name for what he's feeling.

he looks up as the captain appears in the doorway, a sea of emotions washing over him. he tries to pick them out as they pass by, give himself some sense of knowing, some sense of control over himself in all of this. relief, guilt, comfort all float by like buoys, islands he can name amongst the indiscernable waves of everything else that batter him breathless still.

@naitfall says: take some deep breaths. it's over.

as if on cue, he lets go of the air held tightly in his lungs reflexively, as if those simple words have lifted weight from his chest. everyone has either been treating him like a pariah or china, something to stare at and whisper about or something to coddle and tiptoe around. armin is simply relieved that levi manages to treat him like a human being when even he can't manage to give himself that grace ( as if he ever has ). he doesn't deserve it, and from levi least of all.

" i know. thank you, " he answers, feeling his expression try to form something resembling an understanding smile, proof that he's alright. it's probably transparent to the captain, who can cut to people's cores as easily as he can to a nape, and armin doesn't let it linger long enough to give him the chance to call him on it first. " i would understand, you know, " he says, much quieter now as his gaze averts, " if you were upset with me. "

[moved--naitfall]

continued ask | Porco @jxwz & Levi

Immediately, Porco clips his mouth shut and drops into the nearest chair available. Even if he is already healing—steam spilling out from between his fingers, his bloody bicep clutched tight to his side—there's no way he's going to argue with the Captain. An order is still an order and Porco didn't get this far by disobeying them and defying his superiors. He's not an idiot.

"Sir." It is the only thing he says; his respect shown, authority acknowledged. An effort he hopes that will steer him out from the center of the Captain's ire. And at least the blood on the floor won't stay there for long. . .

They were humans. Alongside them, alongside the soldiers of the Survey Corps, fought those with the power of titans— to transform, to heal, to survive when all hope was lost. The thin line between humans and human-eating monsters shall never be crossed, the warriors' nature, their birth and rights as human beings, shall never be questioned, else their own humanity would be the one to doubt, and Levi had seen with his own eyes countless monsters wearing human skin. They weren’t tools to use until they’d break, to endure such pain and suffering. To be seen as someone inhuman, both a monster and a tool— ‘humanity’s strongest soldier’ wasn’t unfamiliar to that.

He shouldn’t have been worried, and yet he couldn’t divert his eyes when looking at a young soldier, HIS soldier, suffering in pain as if it were natural, whose injuries could have put his life in danger. In disgust he’d stare, for how absurd was the sight before him, yet incredible, to witness wounds close. It was disgust, at the proof of a world that wouldn’t make any sense, and their efforts to give up on reason for the sake of survival.

His intended grouchy mood was cut off by complete obedience. ❝ Make sure you don't die. ❞ He had enough suicidal brats to watch over.

[naitfall]

continued ask || Eren ( @centuricnis ) & Levi

eren hadn't really come over to talk. afterall, the last thing he associated levi with was long drawn conversations. still, his presence was a comfort to him and the brunet found himself gravitating to wherever his captain was when he needed a moment to just gather himself. sometimes eren had wished they'd never found what his father had hidden in that cellar. it seemed to make everything so much more complicated in his mind. what was the point of it all?

he grimaced and sighed softly in defeat. just trying to figure it all out made his head hurt. instead, teal eyes flicker over to the shorter man, taking in his familiar frame with the almost ever present furrow in his brows. sometimes he wants to just reach up to smooth it out and his fingers twitch with the sudden compulsion to. he curls them into a fist to avoid doing something idiotic.

"that's okay... we don't have to talk," he finally replies after what's probably been a minute of silence. "i came over here for the quiet, anyway."

Unusually bright was the starry night sky. One could not directly stare at the moon for long, as if meaning to challenge the sun. On nights like this, he was reminded of them. On the spot Eren had taken seat, used to be Isabel. She'd laugh and excitedly swing her legs, her desire for life radiating even long after she was gone, even to this day, where she kept on living in his memories. On nights like this, his silence carried an air of melancholy that kept most at distance. But not him, as if intending to defy any and all boundaries he had set, and most hadn’t yet dared to cross.

He wouldn’t submit to orders, wouldn’t back away in the face of danger. He didn’t know when to retreat, charging into a battle he was certain to lose. And yet, for once Levi didn’t wish to fight back. For once, he didn’t mind losing to a persistent brat who hadn’t heard of personal space before, and indiscreetly kept staring as if he could see right through him. As if he claimed to understand, to accept, the parts Levi kept for himself, for long nights where he could look at the stars and recall the dreams he once had, dreams that had long died with the last of his family.

❝ You should get some sleep. ❞ To anyone else, it’d seem like he wanted him to leave. He didn’t. ❝ It's late. ❞

[moved-naitfall]

plotted starter with @osmosisdreams / Eren Yeager & Levi Ackerman (Post-Canon AU)

After a lifetime of war, of questioning who the real enemy was ( taking different shapes, titans or humans, Eldia or Marley, Zeke or Eren ), they had found themselves giving in to a false sense of peace. The world was still in chaos, humanity having once again not learnt from past mistakes, of the consequences of war, plans to repeat past catastrophes already set in motion. It was an inseparable part of the human nature after all, to seek to destroy one another. An irresistible desire that'd dominate those who had been wronged by fate.

Levi had known such darkness from a very young age. Personal was his experience with resentment, having spent his youth in a hole in the dirt, believing he deserved better, and willing to step over as many corpses as it took, to earn what he should have had. That man had no conscience, no interest in the wellbeing of others, of dedicating his heart to a selfless cause. It took a great amount of agony to see himself in the mirror, and change who he was. Those who had nothing, who had lost everything, were dangerous, and they lived in dangerous times where everyone had already lost most of themselves. What future held for them and those to come, was a mystery none dared to discover.

❝ What took you so long? ❞ he mumbled, walking in with his cane in hand. He hadn't been waiting for long at Eren's doorstep since he knocked, but the pain in his leg grew worse for every second he remained standing. He tried to walk more these days, so he could regain part of his strength, get back on his feet — literally. There was almost no improvement in the last few months, having probably reached the limit of his abilities. ❝ Were you taking a shit or something? ❞ His bitterness remained at its usual levels, but the veteran was struggling hard not to let any more poison spill. Pain dominated most of his thoughts these days, clouding his formerly sharp judgement. It took most of his strength to ground himself, pretend to keep it together. He wasn't familiar after all, with physical pain being as intense and persistent as that of his soul.

He quickly took seat, his gaze directly set on the closed-off curtains. ❝ Open the windows. Let some fresh air in. It's as if somebody died in here. ❞ And it had. And the poison had escaped him. He consciously bore a rare air of criticism, of wanting him to do better. Of wanting Eren not to waste the life he had been forced to give up on years ago. Return among the living. Ironic, wasn't it, for the boy who sought absolute freedom, to reach far beyond the walls, having confined himself in the four walls of his house? Truth was, the war had stripped them both of their wings. Levi had found himself in a different kind of prison than Eren's, that of his own weakened body.

With the same body he had once tasted a glimpse of freedom — the scent of the air beyond the walls. Of becoming one with the wind, of the gentle touch of the warming sunlight. For someone who had no hope to ever set eyes on the blue sky, the moment he had first stepped outside the walls riding his horse, the moment he got to know what was like to have everything and lose it, was the same moment his life mission had been fulfilled. The man he was had to perish, and be reborn as someone new. Someone whose purpose was to fulfill the dreams of others, instead. And now, after many years his role was over. He couldn't be of any use in his pitiful state. The distance between everyone he had known grew further every day as they searched for their own path, rebuild their new lives, while his own had long reached its dead end. Each passing day seemed to bring him closer to everyone he had lost. When he'd reunite with them was unknown, yet felt far more closer than when he was still risking his life in the battlefield.

[naitfall]

Monster. A monster he was called his entire life. His soldiers, those he’d sacrifice his life for, would openly question his humanity. Some would doubt the existence of his human heart, malicious and bitter at the loss of the comrades they couldn’t save, searching for a culprit that’d passively take the blame. Others were delusional, claiming he wasn't mortal, wouldn’t die in battle, his life not endangered like theirs, for desperately wanting to believe in his strength, in his ability to survive when all hope was lost, so he could carry their dying wishes to the end. A monster he had been, to those in the underground as well. This boy is a monster. Stay away from him. This man isn’t human. Whether he used his blade to slice one’s throat, or a titan’s neck, whether he fought in the name of humanity, or to protect his family, to kill and protect, were one and the same — his talent, a curse, his extraordinary ability to KILL. To always be looked at with eyes that spoke of both awe and terror.

Levi didn't often speak, he listened, listened to the loud conversations of those he was interested in, whether they spoke of a bunch of bullshit or deep matters beyond his comprehension. Ever since returning from Shinganshina, ever since the sacrifice of their commander and the majority of the survey corps, nothing had remained the same, the once comforting short breaks of silence, having turned to long never-ending disturbing periods of time. Even Hange, the loudest of them all, had grown quiet. Levi disliked pointless talk and never actively sought to start a conversation. Yet, Oda’s presence offered the peace of mind to listen to himself clearly, and say what’s been on his mind— a rare occasion of vulnerability (vulnerability in Levi’s understanding). He didn’t value most opinions. Anyone had one of their own, and all of them held part of the truth with it. But he wanted to hear Oda’s thoughts.

In his eyes, or the eyes of others? ❝ Beats me. No perception is anywhere close to reality. ❞ There was another question he should have asked instead: What to call a man who was ready to sacrifice their humanity for the cause that’d give their life meaning and purpose?

A monster they called Erwin, yet Levi had never seen him as one. No monster, nor human. A deceiving creature, his nature wrapped in mystery. He had followed him, because he couldn’t understand him, couldn’t slice through flesh, see what rested inside of him. How had he, even if unwillingly, looked down on him, humiliated him, when Levi screamed and cried for the loss of everything that had ever mattered to him. Where those eyes of his stare at? How could he keep on fighting when everything was lost? Unbeknownst to Levi when he decided to join him, how utterly human he had been, chasing his own childish dream. ‘When he finds nothing really worth protecting anymore, succumbing to the ugliness of it all.’ Maybe, what made a man a monster, was to live devoid of any hope and dreams. Maybe, Kenny was right all along. They all needed to be drunk on something, to call themselves human. Maybe Erwin would have truly become a monster if he had let him live, and reached that dream of his.

He wouldn’t regret his choice. Not ever.

Satisfied with the answer, he took a sip of his tea, finally meeting with Oda’s eyes, less troubled than he was a moment ago. ❝ I don’t think you do. I sure as hell don’t. ❞ Because Oda wouldn't be intimidated by the darkness of the human soul, familiar to it as much as he was, and yearning to explore its depths.

@naitfall asked:

❛ When does a man become a monster? ❜ ( . . . for Oda? 👉👈 I had to )

"In his eyes, or the eyes of others?" He questions, looking down his glass as if it was a barrel of a gun - no fear, but a whole sea of regrets. He has a sense where the question is coming from, but hesitates to make sure. Not that he's that scared of Levi or worried for him. It was more of a self-centred concern. Once the topic is breached, they'll never be able to pretend it wasn't. Oda least of the both of them; once he got the wheels turning there was no stopping until he reached the conclusion that felt right, a way to proceed. Tempting as it was to put that off for a day or two more, sit in the stillness of it all for a while, it was already too late.

The question was asked, and demanded an answer.

„Maybe when he no longer grieves having to make a distinction between those who he will protect with his life, and those who he won't. The distinction between those who he'll fight to protect, and those who'll die for it. Or, you know what, maybe later still? When he finds nothing really worth protecting anymore, succumbing to the ugliness of it all. Unable to see and feel anything but the darkness of his own doing.” He took a big gulp of tea to prevent his throat closing down on him. And though his expression became wholly pain-stricken, he still forced a little smile by the end. „What makes you think I would know?”

.

[moved--naitfall]

@lausticzt asked:

❛   nurse .   give  my  muse  company  in  the  hospital .

𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃  &  𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

‘ He’s dead. ’ He was still breathing. It took all his strength just to keep on breathing. Didn’t they know he was listening ? He wanted to speak, but his body had shut down, only his conscience remaining. Witness to a familiar scene — he’s seen it happen before, laying helpless, his life at the mercy of others (and there was none). ‘ We got lucky. Our biggest threat covered in his own blood ’, ‘ I'll send a shot through his head ’. Oh. They wanted him dead.

The absurdity of human behavior could no longer surprise him — the soldiers he’d sacrifice himself for in a heartbeat, would turn their guns on him at the first chance given. Neither could the absurdity of his own nature — he held no resentment against them. He wouldn’t raise his blade even if he could still move his body. They still were his soldiers. Fighting in a world gone mad, desperately trying to make sense of their insignificant lives and all their efforts. An innocence he could relate to and gave up on many years ago — a painful transition he had to undergo, accept the futility of it all, in order to become strong enough to fight for a ridiculously hopeless cause. A few years ago, he could have been the one holding the gun, and pulled the trigger with no remorse whatsoever.

Suddenly, his body grew cold, and heavy. He was sinking, his body surrounded by water. He heard the faint sound of guns firing in the distance. Alone, running out of air, slowly losing the last of his senses, his consciousness (his existence) fading. It was peaceful. He wouldn’t feel any pain, or regret, a comforting numbness. Maybe, it wouldn’t be that bad for him to go– Zeke. He had to kill Zeke. Fulfill the vow he made on that day. Wait— Hadn’t he killed him? Hadn’t they killed Eren? Was it all a nightmare? Which was the real nightmare?

He couldn’t breathe. His throat closed, water filling up his lungs. He had to get to the surface. Even if he could move, he didn’t know how to swim. He was drowning. This wasn’t a dr—

Levi woke up in a violent coughing fit. He’d sit up, covering his mouth with his hand, trying to catch his breath. After long, he’d calm down, confused, still in a haze, trying to take in his surroundings. He was at a hospital. How many hours, how many days had passed, since they stopped the rumbling? He had been sleeping for the most time, beginning to lose track of time. Years of insomnia were his body’s defense against the cruel fabrications of his mind. Without that defense, sleeping longer would mean, nightmares he couldn’t escape from. Yet, there was no worse nightmare than the reality he had woken up in. A foreign place, his body damaged, the pain insufferable (physical or not). The purpose he had dedicated his entire life to serve was fulfilled. They had won, but lost everything along the way.

Feverish, they said he was. His body fighting some infection with a funny name. Quite ironic, the moment he allowed himself to rest, his body collapsed, gave up on him completely. He had been pushing his limits for far too long. Far too many years. The time for all scars to heal had come. A painful process he was forced to undergo, in order to stand back on his feet, and move forward.

In a lifetime of war, how was he supposed to find peace? His entire life he'd fight — for his life, for the life of others, for a cause — as if born to become a soldier. His edges sharpened, shaped into a tool. How was he supposed to turn back human, embrace the nature he was forced to deny for so long? When any future he used to dream of ended with dying on the battlefield, how was he supposed to accept the life ahead of him, ahead of them ? They weren’t soldiers anymore. They didn’t serve anyone, but themselves. They could only make choices for their own life, shape their own future. A different kind of freedom and the most dangerous of all.

In the short distance between them, lay an ocean of emotions, of everything they wouldn’t say. What were the exact feelings that brought her to his hospital room? He knew her heart, better than his own, better than anyone else’s, for he had been observing her closely for long, a challenge to understand, and a knowledge conquered kept close to his heart, valuable to keep. Still, despite claiming to know her, he couldn’t explain her presence here. Had she sensed his silent call for help? His shield had gotten damaged along with his body in the explosion, cracks making their appearance, ice blue eyes revealing the heartache within.

He wished to speak, but he was feeling weak. Not the same kind of weakness of his wrecked body, but an all-consuming heaviness of heart. ❝ You're here. ❞ He could start by acknowledging her presence, and maybe, he could later find the words to ask her to stay. ❝ How long have you been here? ❞ Had she been looking after him? What for? He wasn't strong enough any longer, nor was useful in any way. Fighting was over. There wasn't any reason for anyone to stay by his side.

Especially NOT for his heart, kept at distance, away from everyone's reach. A conscious choice he'd pay for. He should have been alone. Yet, she wasn't like anyone else. She wouldn't comply with reason. A sense of relief flooded within, calming his nerves — since when could the presence of someone ease the suffocating pain of everything he's lost? Those eyes of hers. Piercing, clear as if staring in a mirror, as if to clear the storm clouds his own carried.

[naitfall]

@gyofukuki asked:

⏳️(from Historia aHHH~~)

Send ⏳️ for your muse to meet the younger version of my muse

Angels. His mother has spoken of angels before. Creatures of light, who watched over them, creatures she believed would protect them. A mystery was his mother's nature, how she could still cling to hope and innocence, despite having been doomed to darkness. Levi claimed to know the cruel truth, even if he had never spoken of it — there were no angels watching over them, at least not for him and his mother, or else they wouldn't let her slowly rot, mind and body alike. Angels came only when it was far too late, when it was their time to leave so that they could collect the souls of the living.

The door had swung open, light forcing its way in, illuminating the dark room. Instinctively Levi brought his knees closer to his chest, as if to hide away from the intensity of it, like the shadow he had become, as if the last of him would fade away if met with such violent light. A beautiful young woman wearing a white dress stood by the doorway. Had he seen her before? He hadn't, for he wouldn't forget anyone who shone as brilliantly as her, brilliant like the sun — he could only imagine its radiance and yet, she exceeded his imagination. There was no mistaking the reason she had come.

The last time an angel had visited them, Levi was asleep. When he awoke, her skin had grown cold— she wouldn't be feverish anymore. When he called her, she wouldn't respond or flinch in her sleep. His mother had left without getting the chance to say goodbye. The boy hadn't been able to sleep ever since. He wanted to speak, to ask the lady standing before him, why she didn't wake him up when she last came, but he couldn't force himself to speak. His eyes hurt, far too accustomed to the darkness, watching as her frame approached him. Unfocused, clouded was his gaze, and yet he couldn't look anywhere else but her blurry image.

He was soon to reunite with his mother. That’s why she had come, wasn’t it? Because he was close to dying. Maybe, there was mercy after all. His mother shouldn’t suffer anymore. She wouldn’t struggle to breathe, or cry in pain any longer. Maybe, death was the only escape creatures like her could offer. He took a deep shaky breath, as if the first he'd taken in a very long time. He was ready.

[moved-naitfall]

continuing this answered ask ( blame legacy/beta editor ) / @lovepurposed

Such wonders, creatures like him were. Dreamers never seized to intrigue Levi, strangely having crossed paths with many — was his bitter persona a magnet? Come to think of it, wasn't almost everyone guided by their dreams? Dreams of success, of happiness, of peace, or fulfillment. Everyone had to be drunk on something to keep pushing forward. And when these would begin to fade, when reality would crush their heart, all innocence would rest with their hopes. A dim future would await, of dead and unfulfilled promises, and a single wish: to simply manage to get through.

Francis was different, though. Not surrendering to the cruelty to rule their world, but choosing to live in his own, instead. What were his dreams made of? He hadn't seen many times before such dedication, such desire to feel, and experience everything. A double-edged blade — what would happen of him, a mystery to Levi. So he wished to be there, and observe closely. “ I spotted a certain someone fooling around, and followed his steps. ” The streets were dangerous at a time like this, and the other didn't seem to care the least. “ I'll give you a lift. Unless you prefer to catch a cold. ”

[moved--naitfall]

Levi had taken a moment to relax. After two sleepless days of preparing for the next expedition, he can finally enjoy his tea in peace . . .

[naitfall]

tag drop #1

[moved-naitfall]

tag drop #1

—◆ visuals | perhaps cherries look violent in the sunlight ( you are all honey & rage ). perhaps you should let the moon be your courier

—◆ thread | the absurd hero’s refusal to hope becomes his singular ability to live in the present with passion

—◆ ic | that means i'm abnormal. . . probably because i've seen far too many abnormal things

—◆ queue | some ancient call that i've answered before

—◆ memes | make a choice you won't regret

—◆ dashboard game | it's the cracks that let the light shine through

—◆ headcanon | i will not bare my soul to their shallow prying eyes. my heart shall never be put under their microscope

—◆ wishlist | even so. here i am. waiting impatiently for the day when i can touch the light

—◆ crack | i was gonna put my password to ‘levi’ but it was too short

—◆ character study | somebody inside of me has always tried ( with all his strength ) to be nobody

—◆ aesthetic | a world illuminated by the sun. a world bathed in light

[moved--naitfall]

@massensterben : continued thread

To humiliate a soul— there wasn't anything more inhuman than that. To break one’s body and soul, shatter to pieces that wouldn’t ever find their proper place. He couldn’t be put back the way he was, could never return to who he used to be. Levi was familiar with such agony. Standing at the edge of a cliff, with one single choice: to survive at the cost of everything he’s been, to take one step forward and FALL.

His first expedition beyond the walls, a series of choices, losing the last of his family— if only he hadn’t come across this devil. Erwin. His pride was to blame. And yet, that man he wished to kill claimed it wasn’t. Never in his life, had Levi felt as if he belonged with the dirt. On his knees, wanting to scream for the loss of the last two people who gave meaning to his dreams, humiliated, while before him stood a man who couldn’t afford to be as selfish as he was. If it weren’t for this devil, Levi wouldn’t have dedicated himself to humanity. He wouldn’t have denied who he was, for the sake of understanding him, of becoming a tool for his purpose. People didn’t break from torture alone — the loss of hope and dreams, a noose he had tightened around his neck on that day, a leash he had given to his hands to hold. Levi had made the choice to sell his soul. And Bertholdt had made his own.

They had become devils, the monsters the world feared they were. When does a reason become the blame? He’s not asking the boy before him. Maybe he was, hell if he knew, he had spoken before he understood the real meaning behind his own words, his blood boiling at the sight of the state he had found him in, sick at the sight of what happened of him, the ugliness of his own people to justify such cruelty. He was told to stay away. Was it because they feared if he were to approach him, he'd kill him? He wouldn't hold back, break him to the point there wouldn't be any use of him? No. The reason Hange had given him such an order was because they knew he wouldn't stand the sight of him. Levi had dedicated himself to humanity, yet there was nothing human in this madness. They had gone astray, and he didn’t know if there was a way to go back.

They were children. There was no justifying the torture he had gone through, because the truth was — and Levi wasn’t blinded by resentment nor fear to fail to see clearly — when they breached Wall Maria, they were young children, who weren’t prepared to carry the weight of their sins, the loss of countless lives. He still was a child, someone doomed to lose his life young. He wouldn’t look down on him, even if still an enemy he’d kill the moment he seemed to become a threat. Levi had killed, when he was much younger than him, for reasons less justified, revenge against a world that had taken everything from him, a world he wanted to spit on. He never regretted the lives he took while fighting for his life in the underground. He never regretted the lives he sacrificed, for the Survey Corps to advance one tiny step forward. Or so he wanted to believe. Yet the boy before him was drowning in regret long before he was stripped of his freedom.

He didn’t claim to forgive the Colossal Titan. If in his place was Zeke, if he was the one treated like an animal, it would have been different, for he had seen with his own eyes the lack of humanity in him, the animal he truly was. But he truly believed Bertholdt deserved a more merciful end. Absurd, ridiculous, insane, to consider killing an act of mercy. They had all lost their minds in this war. They were all desperate. Trapped in the same cell they had locked him in, terrified of what their fate was, broken beyond repair. They were the same as him, prisoners, cornered prey, desperate to see the light of one more day, for their suffering to end. They were the same as him, else they wouldn’t have treated him with such barbarity.

He dropped to one knee, lowering to meet his gaze. He couldn’t say anything. Couldn't promise him freedom. Couldn't promise him his suffering would soon end. Because, even if the torture did end, he'd never return at being the same. If only he could look into his eyes, not in fear, but as if staring inside a mirror, for he knew the horrors he held inside him. ❝ Is there still a home you want to return to? ❞ If there was, there was still saving him, even a small part of him. For Levi there wasn't. ❝ Don’t look at me like that. There’s no right answer. Just spit it out. ❞

You start to get really fucking grateful around here. It starts with clean water, with gristle and kitchen scraps. You thank them on your knees for a chance to chew. Then sleep. The first time he got to sleep through the night, he woke and wept with gratitude. Voices, light, the sky. Things like that are luxuries he no longer has any right to. They are granted in exchange for his cooperation, for his willingness to crawl. And god, he is willing. They have made him willing.

Bertholdt is told he has been in Paradisian custody for ten months. Emaciated and haggard, he bears the signs of his redemption on his body. There are scars on his skin, for the first time. There are holes in his mind that have been punched in by Commander Hange. Ten months of suffering is nothing, of course, compared to the pain he brought to these people. Ten months of rot and screaming, what does that amount to? No, if Bertholdt wants to live at all, then he must offer more. —He has offered. After months in darkness, starved and beaten and pissed on, Bertholdt finally began to talk. And he didn’t stop talking, did he? He quickly learned that the more he said, the more time Commander Hange would spend with him, which meant that the guards could not have free rein over their own brand of vengeance.

Perhaps he should have preferred to die a patriot’s death. But he was only sixteen years old.

But Bertholdt talked. Bertholdt talked himself out of the confines, out of the torture cell, out of the naked frightened animal state. He talked himself out of the dungeons. He begged and promised and wept for everything that was ever demanded of him. He talked himself in front of Captain Levi.

@naitfall says: ❛ When does a reason become the blame? ❜

The question slips into his ear like poison. It is cold and impersonal. It burns him through like acid, some chemical compound. He’s been asked the question before, though differently. How did you justify, how did you justify, how did you justify? He didn’t. He couldn’t.

“We just wanted to get back home. We had to… We didn’t know. I swear we didn’t know.” His voice is some hacked off limb, crawling out of his mouth. He chokes on it. Bertholdt’s eyes are nailed to the captain’s boots. He’s waiting for one to come sailing into his face. He can already taste the blood, the skull-shattering pain. He sees his teeth scattering.

“We were told to retrieve the Founder, by any means necessary. It was never meant to be like this.”