#even though he understands why it might have been necessary hes still allowed to resent hus father :( | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jingyismom · 3 years ago

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Thanks everyone for the prompts! I decided to try and knock these all out in one go:

@thegirlwhotrashcans: remember, you asked for it. au, nobody dies, wwx and yanli bodyswap. they're married to lwj and jzx. 100% crack. bonus points if jin zixuan completely loses his shit and lwj looks very calm but loses his sh*t after everything is back to normal

@alightbuthappypen: Competency kink! One or both of them (when I say 'them' I mean wangxian obvs, I know what I'm about) getting hot and bothered about the other being amazing. On a nighthunt maybe? Or anywhere else that strikes your fancy!

@hearteyeswangji: WRITE MORE P*RN

I think I can manage that. With a few tweaks, accidental seriousness, and broad, ridiculous fix-its tacked on. I have no idea how long this might be. Let’s try it in installments? I’ll reblog and add on as I go. Maybe it’ll be fun. We’ll find out.

Disclaimer that this is just gonna go for it with no revising and no beta readers, so pls do not hold me to any conceivable standard of coherency thx

WILL INCLUDE: wangxian, xuanli, let jyl and lwj be friends agenda, canon divergence, fix-it, everybody lives, arranged marriage, bodyswap, light angst, getting together, Attempts at Comedy, eventual (light?) wangxian smut

The Sunshot Campaign has just been won. Everyone goes over to Jin Guangshan’s house after the Nightless City banquet, to Negotiate Stuff, and some hasty political marriages happen resulting in Xuanli Wedded Bliss and Wangxian Un-confessed Wedded Tension. Then, suddenly...a curse befalls our brave heroes.

Wei Wuxian wakes suddenly, feeling odd. He’s sleeping on his stomach for one thing, which is not his usual, but he feels warm and comfortable enough that he doesn’t think it strange. But then there is the scent of peonies and gardenias, which is both familiar and alien, somehow. It makes him open his eyes.

Which is when he sees the hand before him on the bolster. It is slender and elegant. Small. Pale. Familiar? Wearing a jade bangle. He pushes himself up a bit, startled, only to see the hand move when he does.

The hand. Is his hand. He stares at it. The shock of it, coupled with the early hour, leave his mind working very slowly.

At length, he becomes aware of an odd weight across his back, which then shifts. Wei Wuxian turns.

He is met with the sleepy, moon-eyed stare of one Jin Zixuan, still cradling him in his arms.

“What the fuck,” says Wei Wuxian. His voice is. Soft. And high.

He would think this was all some messed-up dream if not for the fact that his dreams of late have all been messed up in an entirely different way. He’s also certain, in an odd, detached way, that he never would have imagined the battle scars that mar Jin Zixuan’s distressingly visible skin.

Jin Zixuan’s brow furrows, and he blinks. “A-Li?”

“...What the fuck.”

~~~

When Lan Wangji wakes at his customary hour, he is just slightly more tired than usual. The coverlet over him is oddly heavy, but he does not give it any thought until light from the rising sun slips over an unfamiliar sill and into his eyes. His entire body goes tense as he remembers.

Jinlintai. The long hours of debate, of negotiation. The hasty marriages.

He sits up in his strange bed and turns. There, in the bed opposite, is Wei Ying��s sleeping form. Close, yet still distant. Safe, at least.

Lan Wangji relaxes, and takes a breath. It was a near thing, keeping the sects from demanding more and more from Wei Ying, from treating him like a criminal instead of the hero he is. But somehow, Jiang Wanyin and Xiongzhang ended up on the same page, defending him, working tirelessly toward a compromise with the more critical parties. And now Lan Wangji has the dubious honor of ‘keeping Wei Ying in check,’ as Yao-zongzhu so inelegantly put it, through marriage.

A strictly political marriage. A convenient solution. To bind them together, to keep Wei Ying tied under the umbrella of Lan Wangji’s rigid honor.

It is unclear, as of yet, if Wei Ying resents this arrangement. He has not been himself since Nightless City, and the destruction of Wen Ruohan’s forces. First his long coma, then a lingering tiredness that he has not seemed able to shake, which dampens his normally-vivid expressions of feeling.

Lan Wangji is worried. But this, at least, Wei Ying has made clear is unwelcome. He seems to want to pretend that nothing has changed. Not about himself, and not between the two of them. Lan Wangji has done his best to honor his wishes, despite everything.

Now, he rises and dresses before sinking into his morning meditation. It is still strange to do so fully dressed, weighed down by the propriety required for the public, but it has felt necessary, now that Wei Ying shares chambers with him. A physical manifestation of the barrier between them, more important than ever now that they are, bizarrely, married.

Before his meditation is finished, he hears Wei Ying stir. It is unusual for him to wake so early. Lan Wangji’s eyes snap open, immediately searching him for signs of pain.

Wei Wuxian turns over, then goes very still. He sits bolt upright, searching the bed with wild eyes, then turns them on the room at large. When they land on Lan Wangji, he curls in on himself, the fingers of one hand tightening at the collars of his sleeping robe, clutching it closed.

“La—Lan-er-gongzi?”

His voice is oddly breathy, and his eyes...they are wide with confusion, with just the slightest tinge of fear. Lan Wangji is struck nearly senseless by the term of address, aberrant in Wei Ying’s mouth.

“What is wrong?”

Searching the room again, Wei Wuxian moves toward the edge of the bed with a strangely graceful modesty. It looks alien on his long limbs. “My...my husband. Where…?”

The word jolts through Lan Wangji’s entire body. He has never heard Wei Ying say it before. He has...wanted to hear it. Dearly, he realizes suddenly. But it sounds wrong. Distressed. Everything Wei Ying says sounds wrong.

“Wei Ying,” he says.

Wei Ying’s eyes snap to his. “A-Xian? Where is he? Is he with A-Xuan? Are they alright?”

Lan Wangji blinks at him, uncomprehending, for several seconds. Then he begins to understand.

“You are not—”

The doors to their chambers burst open, and Jiang Yanli rushes in. The tasteful purple and gold robes she has adopted in the few days since the weddings are loose, uncharacteristically askew—not impreprietous, but verging on it. She spots Lan Wangji and her stormy expression clears.

“Lan Zhan,” she says, and her shoulders droop.

Lan Wangji blinks at her, thrown by her use of this name, then glances at Wei Ying, who has gone completely still, his mouth open in a small, shocked ‘o.’ Jiang Yanli follows his gaze and freezes.

Just then, Jin Zixuan comes barreling into the room, significantly more unkempt than his wife. He has not even tied back his hair.

“A-Li,” he implores, “what’s happened? We can’t just go barging into our guests’,” he pauses, and bows awkwardly, hastily, to Lan Wangji and Wei Ying in turn, “rooms like this. Please,” he takes her arm, but she shakes him off.

She’s still staring at Wei Ying. “Sh...Shijie?”

Wei Ying startles, and looks down at himself. He holds out his arms, his hands, and looks at those too. Then he looks up at Jiang Yanli. “A-Xian?”

“Shijie,” Jiang Yanli says, and slumps over to the bed, embracing Wei Ying.

“A-Li,” hisses Jin Zixuan, scandalized.

Lan Wangji glances at Jin Zixuan’s wife embracing his own husband on the bed, and rises. He walks briskly past them all to shut the door. Then he returns.

“Wei Ying,” he says again. Jiang Yanli looks up at him.

It is obvious, now that he has realized it. Her face, animated by his personality. The soft warmth of her eyes sharpened just so. The deliberately graceless way she threw herself—himself—into Wei Ying’s—no, Jiang Yanli’s—arms.

Lan Wangji takes a deep breath. “Is this a curse?”

“Yes,” Wei Ying says with Jiang Yanli’s face, but his own certainty.

“How can we break it?” Lan Wangji asks.

“I”m not sure, not yet. I need to try a few things—or—having the original curse would be safer.” He looks at his sister in his own body. “I...don’t really want to experiment with this.”

Jiang Yanli tsks and bumps his shoulder a little too forcefully, jostling Wei Ying in her currently slight form. “Vain,” she says, teasing.

“Shijieee,” he whines. It sounds bizarre in Jiang Yanli’s voice. “I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.”

“I know,” Jiang Yanli says, soothing.

“Do you feel alright?” Wei Ying goes on, urgent.

“Perfectly alright, now that you’re both here,” she says, smiling at the newcomers in turn.

Something sharply acidic surges in Lan Wangji’s stomach at such a look on Wei Ying’s face, directed at...Jin Zixuan.

“Really, though,” Wei Ying presses, “any nausea? Dizziness? Pain? You’re not worried?”

“Not at all. Our A-Xian will figure it out.”

Lan Wangji watches as the appearance of Wei Ying’s knuckle affectionately brushes Jiang Yanli’s nose.

Strange. It is all...so strange.

“If—”

“What is happening?” Jin Zixuan interrupts.

All three of them look at him. He stares between them, wild-eyed and desperately askew. Lan Wangji has never considered him to be particularly slow on the uptake, but he supposes allowances must be made for the stress of waking up with a stranger in one’s bed.

He does not care to investigate the perverse pang of jealousy he feels at the thought.

“A-Xuan, it’s me,” Jiang Yanli says. Jin Zixuan stares at her in Wei Ying’s body, uncomprehending. She goes on slowly, but not unkindly. “A-Xian and I have been cursed into each other’s bodies. He’s in there, and I’m in here.”

Her husband blinks several times, very quickly. Lan Wangji recognizes the moment it sinks in by the deep flush that rises across his entire face, and is certain he does not wish to know what precisely inspired it.

Jin Zixuan takes an involuntary half-step back, then forward again, as he speaks with renewed urgency. “Why has this happened? Can it be undone?”

“Great questions,” Wei Ying says, falsely encouraging. Lan Wangji exchanges a glance with him, and it almost feels natural, to share such a thing with either Wei Ying or Jiang Yanli. “Someone was clearly either targeting me—that’s Wei Wuxian, that’s me, in here—or you...whom you know to be Jin Zixuan. I hope.”

Jin Zixuan turns a deeper shade of red. “Obviously,” he bites out. “But why?”

Wei Ying rolls his eyes dramatically. It is not something Lan Wangji ever imagined Jiang Yanli doing.

“We don’t know yet, but we will once we find and question the person responsible,” Wei Ying says. Jiang Yanli grips his arm suddenly. Wei Ying looks at her. “And yes, it can be undone. Of course it can. I’ll figure it out.”

“Cast a rebound,” Lan Wangji says, brisk. The more quickly they are done with this, the better.

Wei Ying’s face falls. “Ah,” he says, “well, we…”

“My cultivation is too weak for him to reliably use,” Jiang Yanli says suddenly. “And I’m not very good at the method, I’m afraid.”

Lan Wangji nods. Steps forward. Then hesitates. “If the curse was cast in such a way, one of you may end up in the caster’s body. And they in yours.”

They all look at Jiang Yanli. Her expression grows grim. “Alright,” she says, then looks to Lan Wangji. There is something steely in her expression that is familiar on Wei Ying’s face. “Thank you for the warning. Go ahead.”

Lan Wangji hesitates only a moment longer, expecting protests from the other two. But Wei Ying is wearing a small, knowing smile, and Jin Zixuan merely nods at her, reassuring. Lan Wangji senses his esteem for the Jin heir rising at such solid trust in his wife.

He steps forward and casts the rebound. They all hold their breath.

Wei Ying glances around, his wry expression entirely foreign on Jiang Yanli’s face. “Anything?”

“No,” says Jiang Yanli.

Wei Ying sighs. “More work for us, then.”

“A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli says, taking gentle hold of his wrist. “You know what this means.”

“Ah?”

“You’ll have to be me.”

“Ah. No, I—”

“A-Xian.”

Wei Ying scratches his head, a not-at-all ladylike gesture. “Or we could just stay in here and let these two investigate?”

The smile Jiang Yanli turns on him is tender, and knowing, and indulgent. “I’d like to see you try to sit still when there’s a puzzle to solve.”

He sighs. “Alright. But you have to be me, too.”

She nods, and theatrically slouches into a sprawling, sloppy posture. Wei Ying laughs, his head thrown back, a hand on his stomach. Jin Zixuan turns around, looking almost ill.

Lan Wangji understands, and he doesn’t. It is dizzying, and distinctly wrong-looking, to see both of them this way. Yet there is also something endearing about it. About the parts of them that do overlap, and fit into each other better than one would expect.

“A-Xuan,” Jiang Yanli calls softly, noticing her husband’s distress.

Lan Wangji gets the distinct impression that that tone in Wei Ying’s voice is not helping the situation.

“Jin-gongzi,” he says. “It would be best for all of us to go about our days as normal, and not to arouse suspicion. Wei Ying sleeps late, and will not be missed for the morning. Jin-shao-furen may claim mild illness until the afternoon. But you and I must behave as normal. There are still the other sects to host.”

“Yes,” Jin Zixuan says absently. He runs a hand over his face. “Yes. You’re right. A-Li—” he turns and looks at the pair of them on the bed, and pauses. He shakes his head as if to clear it. “I’ll go back and dress. Join me when—or—Wei—” he stops. “I will be attending my duties. Please let me know what else I can do.”

“Remember to act natural,” Jiang Yanli says. “When A-Xian joins you later, try to look less like a roasted tomato, hmm?”

Jin Zixuan’s mouth twists into a wry smile, and he nods at the floor, then flees the room. Jiang Yanli and Wei Ying turn their eyes to Lan Wangji.

“I shall also depart,” he says. He circles his arms to bow to Jiang Yanli, but Wei Ying stands and pulls him over toward the door. Lan Wangji lets him, and tries not to pull away from the improprietous touch from a married lady.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, hushed and urgent. “I’m not...you don’t think I’m hurting her, am I? Just by being in here? Can you sense any resentment?”

Lan Wangji feels something tighten in his chest. Wei Ying has not let Lan Wangji so much as examine his pulse since he roused from his coma, but the idea that he is so constantly steeped in resentment as to cause worry that his very soul may be harmful...is distressing. He takes hold of his slender wrist carefully. It is still Jiang Yanli’s body, and he will treat it with the respect it is owed.

“I cannot,” he says. The only energy in Jiang Yanli’s body is generated by her own small but steady golden core. “I sense nothing that may be harmful.”

Wei Ying lets out a relieved breath. “Alright. But, um. What about the other way? Is her...is my body harming her?”

Lan Wangji turns to go back and perform the same examination, but Wei Ying stops him. “No, that’s alright. I’ll. We’ll just get this over with, and we can. Between the two of us, we can fix whatever...whatever damage I do.”

Lan Wangji stares at him, but Wei Ying refuses to meet his eyes. At length, he nods. “We can.”

“Alright. Ah, thanks. You should go.”

Lan Wangji goes.

#my fic #prompt fic #the untamed fanfic #lan wangji #wei wuxian #jiang yanli #jin zixuan #i don't know why i bother this is NOT gonna show up in tags #i'm not gonna go through and censor things. i'm just. not gonna #also this post is...so ugly #will anyone even read it??? who knows elksfdjns #let's have some fun

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merakiui · 4 years ago

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Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, and Childe Finding out That You’re Being Abused HCs

cw: mentions/descriptions of (physical and emotional) abuse, injuries, depressive mood/thoughts, implied violence **please proceed with caution and do not read if this is triggering! note - submissions are confusing for me, so I wrote it in this format. I hope that was okay!

@tuestika said: Hi! Sorry that I send my request through submission, tumblr has sometimes eaten my asks either wholly or have omnomned whole ask xD Usually my requests sent through submissions arrive intact so…. I saw that you had done Scaramouche reacting finding out their s/o is being abused headcanons, may I request headcanons for Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao and Childe finding out their their s/o is being abused? Keep up good job! <3

🔥 Diluc 🔥

Diluc might not be the most vocal person in the world, but he’s definitely observant. He’s gotten rather skilled at picking apart your social cues because he’s spent a lot of time with you.

So when you barge into his tavern one evening, looking absolutely disheveled and asking for one of the Knights, he’s feeling two emotions: confusion and irritation.

For one, you shouldn’t even entrust your issue to those inadequate Knights. Nevertheless, you are his friend and he isn’t going to kick you out just because you mentioned them.

He waves you over to the bar and is thoroughly shocked when you beg him to let you hide behind it. Then he notices your split lip and the fresh injuries on your face and forearms, and he wastes no time in getting to the point.

“Why were you out so late fighting hilichurls? I hope you haven’t led any here. We don’t need that sort of trouble right now.”

“Sorry. No, that’s not it. I just—you’re the only one...” You’re struggling to piece a coherent statement together, too busy looking over your shoulder to keep track of your thoughts. “I didn’t know where I could go. I mean, I thought of you and—“

“Please slow down. Start at the beginning.”

More concerned over your safety than professionalism, Diluc allows you to slip behind the bar counter, where you cower on the ground to avoid being seen.

You gesture for him to come down to your height and he sighs, silently complying when he finds there aren’t any new customers to serve. Bending down to your level, he holds onto the countertop to keep his balance and then he locks eyes with you.

“What exactly happened?”

You inhale a shuddering breath, wrapping your sore arms around yourself for comfort. Tears are gathering in your eyes as you recall the event. Your abuser had found you after you’d left to get some fresh air, they’d cornered you in a secluded alley, and—you can’t finish the rest of the story.

Diluc doesn’t expect you to continue. He nods as he lets the information sink in, already harboring a deep resentment for this despicable individual.

“Wait here. I’ll close the tavern early. In the meantime, we should see to your injuries and then we’ll look for that person.”

“I really think we should tell the Knights...” you mumble, knowing he’ll disapprove. “They’re more suited to these types of cases.”

“The Knights are incompetent. The investigation will take days, if not weeks. What happens if your abuser knows they’ll be coming for them? They’ll try to escape and then there’ll be no telling where they’ve gone.”

“I know, but it wouldn’t hurt to—“

“I’ll take care of it.”

You try to object because it’s dangerous and you don’t want him to get injured on your behalf. But he’s insistent in his decision, claiming that if the Knights can’t help you no one can. And you really wouldn’t feel safe if your abuser was still roaming free, so you have no other choice but to allow him to carry out the investigation himself.

And Diluc can be quite clever at times. It won’t be hard to traverse the interior of Mondstadt at night, where his identity melts away into that of the sneaky Darknight Hero.

He’s going to protect you no matter what. Your abuser won’t receive an ounce of sympathy from Diluc. All he feels is cold hatred when he catches them. Someone as precious as you does not deserve to be put through such torment, and he’ll see to it that your abuser pays a hefty price to make up for all of the damage they’ve caused.

🧊 Kaeya 🧊

Kaeya can’t understand why you’ve started isolating yourself from everyone. In the past, you were always such great friends with the Knights, always catching up to talk to one of them.

He’d spent a lot of time with you and has since gotten to know you through lighthearted conversations and gossip from the people of Mondstadt.

For someone so appreciated and well-known, he can’t wrap his head around why you might want to suddenly disappear, hiding yourself away as if you didn’t exist.

And then he happens to catch you in town one day while you’re out running some errands. It’s so like him to pop in with a few flirty lines, but the words stick in his throat when he notices the bandages stuck to your arms and legs.

“That can’t be good,” he says as he approaches you, leaning ever so gracefully against a wooden support beam. “Why don’t we find Barbara? I’m sure she’ll have you patched up in no time, my dear friend.”

You don’t think you’re worth it so you shake your head, nervously hoping he’ll take the hint and go away.

“I hope you’re not accepting those dangerous commissions again,” he adds, half teasing and half serious. You can’t tell whether he’s trying to sound chiding or not.

“Please just...leave me be. I’m a little busy right now.” You try to leave the stall you’re at, walking stiffly to avoid limping in front of him. “I’m not feeling well, so if you’ll excuse me—“

Kaeya pushes off from the beam, standing in front of you with a posture that appears immovable. “By order of the Calvary Captain,” he’s saying, a playful glint in his eyes, “you aren’t allowed to move from that spot until you tell me what’s bothering you and why you’re covered head to toe in bandages.”

You can easily object to such an order, but you figure it’s better to answer instead of arguing over your physical condition. So you explain a modified version of the story, telling him that you simply got into a disagreement and it ended in bruises on both sides.

Kaeya hears the tremble in your voice when you say it; you’re lying. His expression softens at once and he steps away, indicating that you’re free to leave. But you don’t; you’re looking at him with such a helpless, pleading look. It breaks his heart.

You break before him, lips quivering as you beg for his help. You’re so scared and alone, and you’re not sure how long you can suffer through this before it seriously hurts you.

“This is the first time I’ve gotten out in weeks.” So that explains your sudden isolation. “Please... I don’t want to go back home anymore. I’ll do anything. Just don’t let them hurt me again.”

Kaeya’s absolutely stunned to hear the silent revelation in your words. You’re awkwardly reaching to undo one of the bandage wrappings to prove your point, but he stops you short. That’s all the proof he needs.

You’ll be brought back to the Knights of Favonius’ Headquarters to be tended to while he gathers a team to search for your abuser. Since you gave him a solid description, it shouldn’t be too hard to find them.

And once they’re apprehended, Kaeya will subject them to a grueling interrogation. There will be no gentle punishment; it’s going to be as unforgiving as the abuse you had to suffer through.

☁️ Xiao ☁️

You’ve never really been keen on physical touch and Xiao understands that completely. He usually avoids any sort of interaction to begin with, unless it’s absolutely necessary, so it’s not a surprise whenever you shy away from large crowds.

He has grown rather fond of you, which has lead to the two of you meeting at Wangshu Inn for some Almond Tofu and relaxed chit-chat.

During one of your many conversations, you bring up a few alarming statements. They’re just personal points you’d like to change, such as your weak fighting spirit or the way your joints brokenly click when you stretch.

Xiao wonders why you’d want to change yourself. You’re not usually this doubtful of yourself. In the past, you would always play the role of his smiling friend, putting on a positive face even when he was in a disagreeable mood.

Xiao is examining your movements as you awkwardly explain yourself and when your arms move he catches the sight of a rope burn etched into your wrist.

“What happened?” He gestures to your sleeve, to which you react in a nervous manner, shyly pulling your sleeve down to hide it. Xiao frowns a bit. “Did you get into an accident?”

“No, of course not! I’m fine. It’s just a result of my clumsiness.”

It really doesn’t look like that to Xiao and when he truly looks at you again he finds that you appear abnormally tired and exhausted. He isn’t going to sugarcoat anything and he could be making a giant assumption, but he still asks.

“Is someone hurting you?”

Your eyes widen for a split second and Xiao catches that movement like a cat drawn to a laser pointer. He won’t force you to explain unless you feel comfortable doing so. The last thing he wants is upsetting you or pressuring you into something you don’t want to talk about.

Eventually, though, the story will come to light and he’ll hear all about the horrors you’ve gone through. That rope burn was just one of many punishments you’ve had to endure, and Xiao’s just about ready to snap. How dare someone lay their filthy hands upon you in such a violent way?

Xiao will calmly tell you to stay at Wangshu Inn or anywhere else in Liyue where you’ll be safe. He’ll watch over you while you take time to recuperate and heal. He’s going to make sure you’ll never have to go through something like that ever again.

Having Xiao by your side makes the healing process all the more comforting.

And when you fall asleep in a soft, warm bed, Xiao slips out into the night to search for your abuser. It won’t be a pretty sight once he gets his hands on the human trash who dared to hurt you.

💧 Childe 💧

He’s very perceptive when it comes to your health and overall well-being. After all, he’s got brothers and sisters to care for; perception is absolutely necessary in order to keep them happy and healthy.

So it doesn’t take long for him to realize your behavior is uncharacteristic. You’re jumpier than usual, always apologizing for the littlest of things, and you’ll look over your shoulder whenever you sense something.

It’s almost as if you expect someone to suddenly come at you, which isn’t all that odd. Childe has been known to keep you on your toes when he’s looking for a fight.

But on one particular day he manages to give you a spook when he comes up beside you, grinning and showing up in your peripheral so suddenly that it nearly gives you a heart attack.

You’re so frightened as you back away, practically folding in on yourself in an effort to protect yourself from an imaginary blow. Childe pauses, that silly grin fading when he realizes you’re shaking.

“Hey, it wasn’t that scary. Come on, comrade!” He’s approaching you warily, not entirely sure why you’re acting the way you are. He’s always been spontaneous; you should be used to this by now.

But you refuse to let him come any closer, having to distance yourself so that you can ease your racing heart and hyperventilating lungs. Once you’ve calmed down, embarrassment floods through you at the fact that Childe just witnessed all of that.

Childe will ask if you’re okay with him stepping closer and if you nod he’ll be on you like a hawk, pulling up your sleeves before you can stop him.

For once, you catch an expression you normally don’t find on Childe: surprise. He’s genuinely shocked at what he sees: dark bruises and shallow lacerations from something sharp.

Either you got these in your many sparring matches or there’s another factor at play here, and Childe is almost certain it’s the latter.

His voice is gentle as he asks you to explain what’s going on and once you do he’s already set on finding the one who did this. He seems to forget all about his Fatui work, wanting to capture your abuser and give them a piece of his mind—and subject them to more than a few pieces of his strength, too.

He’ll have you protected in no time, offering to take you to the best healer. You’ll be treated wonderfully and he’ll even lay off on your sparring matches for a while.

In the meantime, once he gets his hands on your abuser, everything becomes fair game. After all, someone has to handle the brunt of his anger and pent-up bloodlust from the lack of a fight. And your abuser is the perfect match to pummel into the ground. Childe shows absolutely no mercy for them.

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

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Spilled Pearls Extra 3

Summary: Wen Ruohan, who is still a work in progress, confronts Qingheng-jun over Lan Qiren (set between Chapter 21 and 22)

- ao3 -

To cultivate is to go against destiny: this was something all cultivators knew.

That destiny was what tied all of nature together, uniting all things within one path to flow together along the same stream to the same ocean, and that to fight against that current was to fight alone – this, no one knew better than Wen Ruohan.

Excluding perhaps only those secluded cultivators that resided in their mysterious mountains, never seeing the light of day, there was no cultivator in the world like him. The years since his birth numbered a century and more, yet his face was youthful as it had been in his twenties; all those around him, being neither so talented nor so lucky nor even so ruthless, were born and lived and grew old and died even as he remained the same – the same, and yet not unchanging. Surrounded by short-lived mayflies, he existed beyond their understanding; by now, he had learned to look down upon them all as if looking upon ants, or else he might go mad for loneliness.

It was easier to be indifferent. Better to be frozen through and through despite all the flames of his fiery cultivation style, to ignore their meaningless cries and meaningless lives and focus only on himself alone. Sometimes Wen Ruohan wondered whether he had actually died when his normal lifespan was meant to have ended and that he now existed only as a ghost, full of resentment: it was far easier to be resentful of those living creatures around him that seemed to instinctively understand one another in a way he no longer did, to ignore them or to treat them with disdain, to allow their pain to be his own reprieve from his own endless ennui – a small child pulling the wings off of flies to amuse himself and remind himself that these creatures before him were actually alive.

Hatred was easy. Living was hard.

Why should he burden himself with the effort of living – with anything other than amusing himself?

He still hadn’t figured out the answer to that, but apparently some part of the answer was plain old irritation.

Lao Nie was too high ranked to be ignored, as Wen Ruohan did care for his sect if he cared for nothing else, and unlike everyone else he refused to be ignored; he had forced his way into Wen Ruohan’s life and made him feel things once again whether he wanted to or not. Mostly what he felt was anger: anger at being treated the way he treated others (for only he was real, and the rest of them fake, and for that reason only he deserved all the good things in the world), anger at being bothered by that interminable pestilence of a man, anger at – feeling things.

Remembering things.

Wen Ruohan was unwillingly reminded of the brother who had loved him and betrayed him and left him behind with a blood-soaked gift he’d never wanted, a cold corpse so long in the ground that he had undoubtedly been completely consumed by worms; he was reminded of those children he had so greatly cherished, so long ago, the ones he would have been willing to die for but instead had to bury. The memories, and the feelings that came with them, had driven him to distraction, feeling at first as though there was nothing to be found in Lao Nie’s immensely irritating brand of affection but needless pain, but somewhere along the line that little spark of irritation had become more than just that.

It hadn’t just been irritation, but curiosity – curiosity, interest, humor, affection…even a feeling of indulgence, a desire to spoil someone and treat them well for no other reason than in order to see them enjoy it, feelings he hadn’t felt in decades. And somehow that mixture of irritating and curiosity had led him not only to Lao Nie, who sent himself quite happily to his bed, but had driven him in a moment of impulse to set up a trap and net himself a brand new brother of his own.

That, too, was to Lao Nie’s credit…or perhaps fault.

Wen Ruohan had tried for years and years now to deny that he felt affection for Lao Nie, and yet it hadn’t helped him one bit in diminishing that affection. Even if the man were acting very odd as of late, almost as if he did not realize what a rare prize he had won for himself through his endless persistence – it wasn’t that Wen Ruohan needed to be wanted, of course, but it was rather irritating that the man who had stuck himself to his side like a burr that wouldn’t be peeled off would promptly disappear the second it turned out Wen Ruohan actually did want him there – it was still there, unchanging.

It might be affection now, but it had started, at first, with anger, that emotion that the Nie sect knew as well as their own hearts.

It was anger that Wen Ruohan felt now.

Not at or about Lao Nie, for once, nor for his sect, one of the few things he cared for. He certainly wasn’t angry any longer at the shining pearl he had snatched away from the Lan sect all those years before, their vision averted and distracted by the glittering but ultimately insubstantial sparkle of Qingheng-jun – he’d found that he could no longer feel anger when he thought of Lan Qiren, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how many times he reminded himself that it had been Lan Qiren who had turned away from him, distraught and upset on behalf of those meaningless flies.

Lan Qiren, who had, despite it all, missed him.

Who thought of him perhaps as often as Wen Ruohan thought of him in return – affection again, that insidious emotion, and Lan Qiren hadn’t even been the one to be persistent this time. Ridiculous, really, and even more ridiculous that it had been Wen Ruohan who had been the first to bend.

He had condescended to come to the Cloud Recesses to find him, all on the strength of an extremely implausible rumor, knowing even as he flew over that he was being a fool – there was obviously no way that Lan Qiren had actually done what he’d been accused of by the wagging tongues of inferior men, and so his trip to the Cloud Recesses was obviously an excuse to go see him and make up with him.

He hadn’t even removed the tongues of the people he’d heard it from, as a gesture of good faith.

He’d come to the Cloud Recesses for Lan Qiren, and he’d found –

He’d found –

Wen Ruohan was often angry after Lao Nie had forcefully pulled him out of the frozen torpor that was the depth of his hate, but he had not been this angry in a very, very long time.

He moved slower than usual, his rage deadening him like a snake in winter. His anger was not like Lao Nie’s, which burned hot and then snuffed itself out, restoring at once to the usual good humor, but rather lasted and lasted, glacial and slow and inexorable. The angrier he was, the slower he moved; if all his years upon the earth had taught Wen Ruohan anything, it was that he needed to keep a clear head when he was truly angry.

Even if only so that he could fully enjoy taking his inevitable revenge.

Wen Ruohan had used a technique to coax Lan Qiren into a deep sleep, meant for healing, and handed him over to a few of his most trusted associates with instructions to see to his injuries and take whatever steps necessary to reduce his pain in the short term. That the cost and effort expended was immaterial did not need to be stated, of course.

Once that was done, he had gone to the rooms of the Lan sect leader, step by slow step, and as he’d hoped, Qingheng-jun was there by the time he arrived, waiting to speak to him.

For all its loneliness, he reflected, there were many benefits to power.

“You’re in the wrong place,” he told him, seeing that, as he’d suspected, the Lan sect rooms were all oriented the same way.

Qingheng-jun frowned at him, clearly not understanding. “Sect Leader Wen –”

“You should take a few steps to the right,” Wen Ruohan clarified, gesturing, and making clear as he did that there would be no conversation until he was obeyed.

This, too, was the benefit of power.

Confused, Qingheng-jun did as he said, moving over until it matched up with the image Wen Ruohan had put together in his head on the way here: the stories told by his spies and the marks left on Lan Qiren’s body both, a hazy image of two brothers standing in a room that was laid out just the same but which was nothing alike.

“Perfect,” he said, and, curling his fingers into a fist, he punched him deep in the stomach.

Qingheng-jun’s complaint stuck in his throat as he gagged, the air expelled out of him by force – Wen Ruohan’s strikes were enough to shatter stone, and Qingheng-jun, however talented a cultivator, was not strong enough to be able to disregard them. He staggered, and Wen Ruohan caught him by the collar, slamming him against the wall and holding him up.

Just the way Qingheng-jun had done to Lan Qiren, just some few days before.

“How dare you,” Wen Ruohan snarled, and felt it again, that anger that was unlike any other anger. Anger that burned hot, not cold; anger that was like a furious flame, not the bright but unfeeling rays of the sun. Anger for someone, rather than against them…anger that was born of affection, rather than hate. “How dare you touch Qiren! He’s your brother!”

He’s my brother.

“He’s no brother of mine,” Qingheng-jun spat, vicious and bitter. “He hasn’t been in years, not since you stole him away and made him value you over his duty to his ancestors. The only brother he is, is yours – isn’t that how you want it?”

It was, of course, but that wasn’t the point.

Wen Ruohan sneered. “Do you think I do not know about you?” he asked. “You, the gifted child, talented and shining, whose world fell apart when your younger siblings died – your father forced you to take on the burden of keeping him intact, told you that you were the only reason he had to live, that you were perfect and therefore had to remain perfect, no matter the cost to you. In his grief he told you that it was because your brother was born that your mother died and you lost everything, and in your grief you believed him; in your rage you lashed out at him, and found that no one would stop you from doing so…it was easy to blame him, wasn’t it?”

Qingheng-jun glared at him.

“It was,” Wen Ruohan said. “You were a child: it was easy to hate where your father hated, to blame where your father blamed, and to lead everyone in the sect to hate right alongside you. You even convinced yourself that you were justified, when in fact you were only jealous – you had to be perfect, while he could be anything at all.”

He casually slammed his fellow sect leader into the wall once more.

“But you knew better. You knew. You had friends, you had allies, you even had Lao Nie, who knows more than most about righteousness – even if you were blameless for what you did as a child, led on by those failures that were your elders, the same cannot be said for you as an adult. You have learned morality and ethics, and yet you chose to continue that hatred, to rely on that crutch – to take the easy route, the selfish route. Why bother to do the work to improve yourself?”

Why bother indeed.

For some reason, Wen Ruohan was suddenly reminded of Lan Qiren’s eyes at the Fire Palace, full of horror and heartbreak, the way he looked as though his world had shattered even as he’d fled – as if leaving Wen Ruohan behind were the hardest choice he’d ever had to make, rather than a betrayal.

It’s easy to hate, he suddenly thought, his own words echoing back at him. The easy route, the crutch…

Wen Ruohan frowned instinctively before casting the thought aside to be examined at a later time.

“You should have done better,” he concluded. “You should do better?”

Qingheng-jun laughed in his face. “Why should I?” he asked savagely. “What use is he to me?”

“Use?” Wen Ruohan asked, and somehow found himself surprised by the question. Not a pleasant surprise, the way it had been when Lan Qiren had effortlessly resisted his compulsion as a child, or when he had turned out to be a thoughtful and oddly charming conversationalist, passionate about his interests and willing to share them as if he were handing out pieces of himself; it was merely that old familiar surprise that there were people this stupid in this world. “Do treasures need to be useful to be valuable?”

“You do not understand,” Qingheng-jun said, and that was the most absurd thing Wen Ruohan had yet heard: of course he understood. He understood far too well the darker emotions of humanity, the way they failed people and twisted people into terrible things – even Lan Qiren had his faults, his temper and his inflexibility; Wen Ruohan did not deceive himself into thinking that his sworn brother was a saint.

But he was himself, and that was worth something.

Even if someone like Qingheng-jun could not see it.

Wen Ruohan listened with only half an ear as Qingheng-jun spoke, seeking to justify himself and his behavior. It didn’t really matter what he said, not really; it was only excuses, in the end.

Instead of listening, Wen Ruohan recalled to himself the distant past: the madness of the Lan sect of his father’s generation, the chaos and terror of the wars they had begun – the miracles and atrocities they would and did commit for the sake of a loved one. They loved so deeply, these Lans; deeply and wholly and blindly, every one of them. To be the subject of their love would be to be their entire world, and even Qingheng-jun’s mad infatuation with the girl He Kexin was merely a pale echo of that love, though he did not know it. He loved the freedom she represented to him, not her: if he had loved her, he would have valued her happiness over his and let her go, no matter how he felt.

Put their happiness over your own, think first of what they would want, what would be better for them rather than what you wanted – only the madness of denying yourself for the sake of another was love.

A strange thought, although a useless one.

He was not a Lan, after all.

Still, however old, the memories of that past still lingered, leaving their mark on his heart all these years later – of all the sects in the cultivation world, Wen Ruohan was most wary of the Lan.

“I’m taking Qiren back to the Nightless City with me,” he interrupted Qingheng-jun.

“Good!” the other man shouted. “Keep him!”

Wen Ruohan somehow hadn’t expected him to say that, and for a moment he felt seized with glee.

Yes, he thought to himself, suddenly pleased. Yes, I will keep him; is that not what I want from him, what I have long wanted from him? I have thought of him every day since he has gone, dreamt of him every night; there is a poison that has sunk within my veins that wears his face and torments me endlessly, and he himself is the only cure I can think of for it. I even have an excuse now, his own sect leader’s word – I don’t have to give him up any longer. I can keep him for good!

And then, in the midst of his joy, he suddenly had a useless thought:

…he won’t be happy about that.

Truly a useless thought. What did Wen Ruohan care about that? Nothing mattered – nothing ever mattered, nothing but him and what he wanted, his wishes and his desires.

He was the only real thing in the world, him and only him, standing alone.

All good things in the world ought to go to him, be with him. It would make him happy to have Lan Qiren with him, to keep him by his side; what did it matter what Lan Qiren, that mayfly only a little more interesting than other mayflies, would prefer? What did it matter that Lan Qiren loved his sect, which did not value him as it should? What did it matter that Lan Qiren still loved his brother, who did not return it?

Wen Ruohan would take him away from it all, keep him by his side, and Lan Qiren would be better off for it, no matter what he thought he wanted.

It was as simple as that.

“You will never cause him trouble again,” Wen Ruohan said, even though it was pointless: if he wasn’t going to let Lan Qiren return, then such warnings were unnecessary. “Or else this will not end so lightly.”

Qingheng-jun sneered at him.

Wen Ruohan sneered back and dropped him, turning back to the door.

He would carry Lan Qiren back to the Nightless City himself, he decided. He would carry him in his arms as he flew on his sword, and make sure that he was untroubled throughout the entire journey.

His shining pearl.

He’d take good care of it.

#mdzs #wen ruohan #qingheng-jun #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls #since so many people were asking for it #some context for WRH's eureka moment in chapter 23

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makeste · 4 years ago

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some meta about Izuku, Katsuki, and trust

and choosing to trust is the real bridge that goes to accepting that person as a part of your live again and what the offender has to earn. I think the interesting aspect of Deku and Bakugou's relationship is that Deku has always trusted Bakugou, and I would say more than he had forgiven him at the start of the story (where he does show more frustration and resentment towards Bakugou's behaviour and see him as a jerk) but despite that he can always trust Bakugou to him himself, attested to

the fact that Deku feels very confident about how Bakugou will act or what Bakugou's true motives are and probably the reason why he always sees Bakugou as a hero despite his hurtful behaviour is because Deku 100% trusts Bakugou even if he's doing something disagreeable or that will hurt him. Knowing someone and trusting is not exactly the same and I see it as trust because of Deku willingness to be co-operative. On Bakugou's side he is mistrustful of Deku and thats where the communication

breaks down and there has been plenty of meta exploring why Bakugou has deep rooted problems around Deku and his journey is him taking accountability of that and changing to be a better person. While understanding and miscommunication get their fair due I think trust and mistrust are the true bedrocks of the bkdk river bed because that allows for how they can still be so connected despite the miscommunication (with Bakugou mistrust is mixed with some trust) because of knowing.

anon I really enjoyed this, thank you for sharing your thoughts! I concur with just about all of this, and this ask got me thinking a lot about the nature of trust, and how it applies to Izuku and Katsuki’s relationship.

I think a lot of people’s reactions to reading the sentence “Bakugou and Deku have always trusted each other” would pretty much be, “???” and “lol what.” like, yeah, sure. they trusted each other so much that Bakugou decided that throwing a tantrum for ten years would be an appropriate reaction to Deku trying to hold his hand. classic Trust, right there!!

lol but I honestly think this is true, though. it’s just that there are different... levels?? types?? of trust. let’s go with types. there are different types of trust, and what makes Izuku and Katsuki’s relationship so interesting to me is that it’s kind of the opposite of what these fictional rival-type relationships usually are. it’s basically the difference between knowing, and understanding.

okay so first of all let’s back up here to make sure we’re all on the same page. we’re defining trust as “firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone”, which is the Oxford Language definition and which works pretty well for me. you’ll note, btw, that the current relationship between Katsuki and Izuku more or less meets all four of these criteria.

reliability - both boys regard each other as dependable and are willing to rely on each other in a pinch (although Izuku is currently having some difficulty with that, but that’s another topic for another day).

truth - both are honest with each other, though not completely honest (this is the aspect that Katsuki still needs to work on, as he’s currently hiding his desire to atone).

ability - neither of them have any difficulty with this. Izuku admires Katsuki’s ability so much that he’s made it his own gold standard since childhood, and Katsuki respects Izuku’s ability enough that he made him his main rival, and never doubted that Izuku was qualified to receive OFA and become All Might’s heir.

strength - as with ability, this is another aspect of trust that neither of them has ever struggled with. in fact, a lot of their relationship struggles happened specifically because Katsuki never doubted Izuku’s strength, but feared it because he didn’t understand it.

so yeah. there’s a lot more trust between them than most people realize, I think. but the thing is that the type of trust they have is based more on knowing than understanding, and that’s where so much of their conflict stems from.

when I say knowing, I’m talking about the kind of awareness that comes from familiarity and experience. this is the type of trust that’s difficult to take shortcuts with, because it mostly just has to be accumulated over time. this is all about learning what someone is like through observing them and being around them. and it’s just as much about being known as well, because at the same time that you’re learning who the other person is, they’re learning about who you are. and that’s where trust starts to work its way in. it’s the slow unveiling of who you are, and laying it on the table piece by piece over time. and every time another little piece of you is revealed and accepted, and every time you accept one more piece of who the other person is in turn, that trust increases a little bit more. this type of trust takes a long, long time to build up, but in exchange the foundation it creates is pretty much rock-solid and nigh-indestructible.

understanding, on the other hand, to me is more instinctual. it’s about empathy and insight. and the interesting thing is that it’s possible to know someone for years upon years, and yet never truly understand them. and on the flip side, it’s also possible to understand someone within minutes of meeting them, even if you know almost nothing about them. if “knowing” is about learning who someone is, I would say that “understanding” is about learning why they are who they are. this type of trust isn’t necessarily always mutual, but it does necessitate forming a connection with someone. because empathy is such a critical component of it, it’s basically impossible to understand someone and not form an emotional connection to them in some way. this type of trust can be far more powerful and intense than the “knowing” type of trust, but the flip side is that it can sometimes be less stable and easier to break.

I think that the majority of fictional relationships, especially the ones that become really popular ships, are based more around the latter type of trust because of its intensity and unpredictability and potential for story development. the thing is, both of these types of trust are necessary for a good ship (and when I say “ship”, I’m talking about both romantic and platonic relationships just fyi). if neither type of trust is present on at least some level, then there’s really no foundation to start building up the relationship. so most of the time a ship will start out with one or the other, and then over the course of the story they'll work on building up whichever one was lacking.

and because of how stories work, the majority of the time we’re going to be dealing with characters who at first don’t know each other all that well. and so the relationships we get are ones where the characters first form some kind of emotional connection that builds understanding, and then over time they start to learn more about each other and build up that kind of trust as well. I feel like 90% of ships have this kind of dynamic. it’s the basis for things like enemies-to-lovers, fake dating AUs, and basically any kind of trope in which the characters get stuck somewhere and are forced to spend a lot of time together. it’s good, and it works.

but the fascinating thing about the relationship between Izuku and Katsuki, though, is that it’s actually the exact opposite of this. the premise of Izuku and Katsuki's story is that these are two people who’ve known each other their entire lives, but have almost no understanding of each other whatsoever. they know almost every little detail about each other, so much that they hardly even think about it. but all of their conflict is based on the fact that understanding between them is basically nonexistent.

and to me this is such an intriguing dynamic. the two of them know each other like the back of their hand. they’re familiar with the smallest habits. they can predict each other’s actions. they know how the other person thinks. and they have the kind of trust that comes with having seen the other at both their best and their worst. Katsuki is capable of letting his guard down around Izuku in a way he doesn’t do around anyone else. he cries in front of him on multiple occasions. he lets Izuku call him “Kacchan” long after their other childhood friends have stopped doing so. and even though he fears and resents Izuku’s strength early on, he also subconsciously acknowledges it in ways that even he doesn’t realize (e.g. “don’t you dare get into U.A.,” rather than “you can’t get in” or “you won’t get in”). he knows Izuku.

but he doesn’t understand Izuku. he knows who he is, but he doesn’t understand why. he knows that Izuku is strong, but he can't wrap his head around the nature of that strength. and because he lacks that understanding, this vital aspect of the trust between them is lacking, and is all too easily broken when Katsuki falls into the creek and Izuku tries to offer his help. Katsuki knows that Izuku is a good person, but he doesn’t understand that goodness, that selflessness, and so he’s mistrustful of it.

on the flip side of the coin, however, Izuku has the utmost faith in Katsuki. to him, Katsuki is the strongest, smartest, most capable and most amazing person in the world (aside from All Might). and Izuku, unlike Katsuki, actually does understand his childhood friend at least a little bit. he understands Katsuki’s reasons for wanting to be a hero. he understands that Katsuki is not just mindlessly pursuing strength. he understands that Katsuki’s motivation is about overcoming obstacles and beating challenges. and most importantly, he understands that Katsuki, in spite of everything he’s said and done to Izuku over the years, is fundamentally a good person.

and this is crucial. because, along with the bond of familiarity they’ve built up together over the years, it’s this other, one-sided bond of understanding that is responsible for their relationship enduring for as long as it did despite everything. as you put it, anon, Izuku’s trust is ultimately what becomes the bridge between them. on some level, he trusts in Katsuki’s innate goodness. he believes in it in spite of all of Katsuki’s attempts to persuade him otherwise. e.g. when Katsuki suggests that he go jump off the roof, Izuku is hurt by the words, but he never once takes them to heart, because he knows on some instinctive level that Katsuki doesn’t mean them. and so he grumbles to himself about Katsuki needing to think before he speaks, but aside from that he never gives the words another thought.

Katsuki would no doubt consider this yet another example of Izuku not caring enough about himself or taking himself into account. but it really is more than that. the reason the words don’t cut deep in spite of them being vicious and well-targeted is simply because Izuku knows that Katsuki isn't truly that cruel. and he knows that on a level so deep that Katsuki is never able to break it despite his best efforts. he can’t break it, because there’s nothing to break, because it’s true. the reason the relationship endures in spite of everything is because deep down Katsuki is fundamentally a good person, and so Izuku’s trust, in the end, is based on truth. and so it never fully breaks, and eventually, it becomes reciprocated.

and that’s what their story is all about. it’s two people that have known each other their entire lives, but have to work in order to build their understanding of each other. unlike many ships, they start off already having that foundation of knowing and being known, and so their story instead is about forging that connection of empathy and insight. and it doesn’t come easily to them at all. but they keep at it.

anyway, so thank you again for sharing your thoughts on this, anon. I didn’t even get into the topic of forgiveness, but I agree with you about it being a process of letting go of negative feelings and resentment. I also agree that forgiveness is a separate thing from trust, but I do think trust plays a big part in one’s decision to forgive or not forgive. it's a lot easier to forgive if you have an understanding of the other person’s actions. and it’s also far, far easier to forgive if the offender’s actions are long in the past. and because the latter is now true in Katsuki’s case, that shows a pattern of him learning from his mistakes and not repeating them. which further builds trust, especially in the “reliability” department. and so even though forgiveness and trust are two separate things, they’re still connected. and in many ways, by working to rebuild the understanding between him and Izuku, Katsuki is also working towards earning Izuku’s forgiveness, even though that’s ultimately something that can never truly be earned, but can only be granted.

I’m not sure if I’m really making my point very clear here lol, but basically what I’m trying to say is that while the relationship may have once been one-sided in this aspect, it’s not anymore. it’s mutual, and they’re both putting the work in. and Katsuki is also doing his part without any guarantee or expectation of forgiveness on Izuku’s end. it’s unconditional. he’s doing it because he wants to atone. and he’ll continue to do it whether he’s forgiven or not. and that’s important. it’s important because it shows that the relationship has value to both of them. and it’s important because neither of them wants to lose it. they want to fix it; they want to make it stronger.

and ultimately what that means is that the relationship will continue to endure, despite their ups and downs. because even though it may have started out as something incidental -- two boys who just happened to become friends because they spent a lot of time together as children -- it’s not, anymore. it’s no longer just something that happened, something that just accidentally came together. it’s something that they’re both working to build. they want to trust each other. they want to understand one another. their relationship is no longer something that simply withstood and persisted -- it’s something that is now being nurtured. and you love to see it.

so let's see, how do I even begin to tl;dr this post lol. something something blah blah blah trust, understanding, childhood friends, knowing someone, having faith in someone, being the recipient of that faith, and working to become worthy of it. they're very confused, but they care about each other a lot, and they are good boys.

#midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #bakudeku #bnha meta #bakugou meta #deku meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks

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mandrs-writes · 4 years ago

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41 Reason why I ship Ereri

Eren and Levi is my all-time favorite ship. These two mean the world to me. And while I am not under any illusion that their relationship is canon, they’re canon in my heart and I want to share with you all the many different reasons why they’re so fucking shippable. Here are my 41 reasons 😊

1. Similarities in their past -- both willing to kill for the ones they love

Eren saves Mikasa by killing two men when he’s just a kid

Levi was trained to kill at a young age. It’s implied that he killed the people that hurt his dear friend Isabel in ACWNR

2. Momma’s boys -- definitely a parallel between them in these two shots.

3. Both had to watch their mom die and understand the pain of losing the people they love

4. Parallels between Levi, Isabel, and Farlan, and Eren, Mikasa, and Armin -- both are looking up at the stars and dreaming of something more

5. Eren has always admired Captain Levi. Just look how stars truck he is 🤩

6.The first time he meets Levi, he sees the Wings of Freedom on his back. The framing of this shot shows that Levi represents freedom for Eren

7. Levi is intrigued and impressed by the fire/determination when he first meets Eren. He is a spark of hope for Levi.

8. Despite many people claiming this scene is ‘abusive’ it is far from it. While it is brutal in nature, Levi’s aggressive display was the only way for him to save Eren from being handed over to the MP. Erwin knew that Levi would need to show the courtroom that he was strong enough to ‘handle’ Eren in order for the MP to give Eren over to the SC.

It’s even explained to Eren after the fact that it was a necessary show of power in order to save him.

It wasn’t something Levi wanted to do -- it’s clear he feels bad about how he handled Eren by asking him if he resented him.

Despite everything, Eren understands why Levi had to do what he did and admits to not being resentful towards Levi, who ultimately appears relieved by that admission

9. They catch each other staring/giving each other eyes 😏 showing that they have an innate interest in each other

10. Eren is surprised that Captain Levi is so keen to following orders from the higher ups. When Petra tells him about his past, he’s shocked and wonders why Levi would join be in the Survey Corps. Eren definitely shows interest and curiosity in this scene and appears to want to know more about his mysterious Captain

11. They’re super cute together 🥺 Just look at theeeem

12. Levi is caught smirking at Eren when talking about him being creepy. Okay buddy 😏

13. Levi sees that Eren is a monster and still accepts him anyway. He doesn’t judge or condemn him for being the way that he is. In the visual novel “Burning Bright in the Forest of the Night”, Levi even refers to him as “a beautiful monster”

14. He always gives Eren a choice, allowing him to make his own decisions, and be his own person. He’s only ever encouraged Eren to be true to himself. He’s never tried to change him

Even when Eren is struggling with accessing his father’s memories and Hange is bombarding him with questions, Levi defends his strange behavior

15. Levi defends Eren based on his “intuition” when everyone else sees him as a monster needing to be put down. Instead, he trusts Eren, standing between him and his squad.

16. Levi visibly panics when he hears Eren transform during the Female Titan arc. He’s clearly worried about him and changes gears to try and save him

17. Levi feels like he failed by protecting Eren and he is visibly distraught when Mikasa calls him out on it.

18. Levi makes up for his failure by only caring about saving Eren, whereas Mikasa seems more interested in killing the Female Titan. He has to talk her down

19. Levi is able to motivate Eren and give him confidence when he’s feeling unsure about himself

20. Levi helps mold Eren into the person he becomes later in the story. Eren obviously looks up to Levi a lot and learns from him in more ways than one

21. Levi gives Eren the power/motivation to choose again, encouraging him to believe in himself.

22. They both have righteous anger

23. Eren is super determined to impress Levi and is visibly upset when he fails to meet his expectations

(Just look at the gay panic)

24. Eren unintentionally insults Levi when he calls Rod Reiss a tiny old man. While Levi appears unfazed, Eren visibly panics, clearly showing how much he cares about Levi’s opinion of him

Also I just love this scene. It’s funnyyy

25. Levi shows concern for Eren on more than one occasion

26. Levi has a thing for Eren’s ass... apparently

Just casually kicking his butt

and talking about it 😏

27. Eren isn’t afraid to stand up to Levi, despite his harsh exterior. This just goes to show that Eren understands that Levi is more compassionate and empathetic than he lets people believe

28. While Levi is conflicted about who to save with the Titan serum, he ultimately picks Armin.

One of the reasons he choses Armin is because of what Eren says about how Armin is good and has dreams, which reminds Levi of the moment that they sat under the stars and talked about the ocean. Levi shows compassion for Eren and his friends

29. Levi gets upset when Erwin tells him to protect the horses instead of Eren

30. Even after losing his best friend, Levi comforts Eren and his friends, letting them know that he does not regret his decision, encouraging them to not regret it as well. Despite being in pain himself, he’s a pillar of strength and comfort for Eren and the others

31. Levi is sympathetic towards Eren’s situation after the Battle of Shiganshina and lets him out early despite his insubordination

32. Levi is disappointed in Eren after what he did in Marley and shows just how upset/affected he was by him leaving by kicking him on the airship. The scene feels very personal and while I could go on and explain why I think it’s incredibly meaningful for their relationship, snkception does a great job of explaining it. You can read their full post here

33. Levi is a protective boyfriend

34. When Eren keeps an important secret, Levi tells them they’ll talk about it later. There’s something incredibly personal about the way he says it that implies it’ll be a private conversation amongst other things

35. Their height difference though 😍

36. Levi is obviously important to Eren, since he shows up in his memory shards

37. Levi is visibly upset when his fellow soldiers talk about feeding Eren to someone else. After everything they’d been through, that’s the last thing that Levi wants.

Also, I think it’s important to note that when Levi remembers Eren, he doesn’t remember him as a monster, despite calling everyone talking about him that way. He remembers Eren the first time they met, when Eren was helpless and merely human

38. Despite his promise made early in the story to kill Eren if he ever went rogue or lost control, he tries desperately to come up with another solution, anyway out of killing Eren

39. When they realize that killing Eren might be the only way, Levi is visibly distraught

In paths, he is the only one on his knees, he’s so tired, beaten down, and lost over what to do that he’s unable to stand and hold himself up on the airship

40. There was so much that Levi wanted to tell Eren... what it was, I can only speculate. But something tells me he wanted to tell Eren everything, including his feelings for him

41. Lastly, they’re opposites. The sun and the moon, summer and winter, fire and ice, yin and yang. Eren is fiery, energetic and passionate and Levi is cool, calm, and introspective. Their dynamic is truly beautiful and I genuinely believe Levi is one of the few people who understand Eren completely and accepts him without judgment

#ereri #aot #snk #spoilers #levi ackerman #eren jaeger #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren x levi #i love them so much #riren #snk manga spoilers

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lavendersugarplum · 4 years ago

Text

☂︎ZEROᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵈ ᵘᵐᵇʳᵉˡˡᵃ

(Umbrella Academy x Sibling!Adolescent!Reader)

❝00.00❞

☂︎ᴢᴇʀᴏ: ᴛʜᴇ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ɢɪʀʟ

─━━━━━━⊱☂︎⊰━━━━━━─

ZERO GRACE HARGREEVES fixes her gaze out the window of Umbrella Academy staring out looking at the dried-out leaves moving across the ground and the grass swaying with the wind. You see, Zero had never been out of the house before. Reginald always told her it was bad for her to go outside. That it was a horrendous place. Even though the Elder man has passed, the rule just seemed to stick with her.

She found herself always confined in her room, Reginald had told her not to come out of. Though Sir Reginald was deceased, she still stayed in her room for most of her time, just without locked doors.

~☂︎~

ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE, AND SIX were heading out for another mission. Zero watched as they left, unconsciously starting to follow after them, wondering where they're going. Zero inched closer and closer to the door, as her ruby red flats went across the cardboard floor. As soon as she felt the coolness of the outside, a force pushed her back. She came to see the hostile eyes of her father.

Zero pointed outside the door where her siblings left, curious eyes facing her father. Reginald just shook his head in disappointment and kneeled to her height grabbing both of her shoulders; eye contact stern.

"Listen to me Number Zero. You must never go outside. The outside is a bad place not meant for you. Do you understand?"

Zero nodded in comprehension, but she was puzzled. Why couldn't she go with the others? Seconds later, Grace came over reaching for Zero's hands. Zero got scared and quickly snatched her hands away. Though resented, Grace kept her usual smile on her face.

"Come now, I'll make supper for you and Number Seven. Okay, dear?" Zero took one last look at Sir Reginald who still had his eyes still fixated on her with a severe gaze before walking away.

~☂︎~

HOURS HAD PAST. By this time all eight of the children were asleep. Reginald was occupied in his office fixing his monocle, before checking his watch. "Pogo! Grace! Come here at once."

Pogo, an advanced chimpanzee and Sir Reginald Hargreeves' assistant and friend at The Umbrella Academy, and Grace, the primary caregiver and adoptive mother of the eight children, materialized into his office . "Yes, Master Hargreeves?" Pogo said bowing. Reginald turned to the two of them as soon as they appeared.

"When I have no time left, I want you to watch over Number Zero. Make sure she stays quarantined in this house. You two will be her two companions. Make her feel as though you two are the only ones she can depend on. Now, do I make myself clear?" Reginald narrowed his eyes at the two.

"Is this really necessary? After all, she's just a chi—" Grace protested, but was silenced.

"Do I make myself clear?" Reginald repositioned, but in a more cold, hostile tone. Pogo looked up to Grace with a knowing look, as she held a hesitant expression.

"Yes, sir." The two said at the same time.

~☂︎~

ZERO SAUNTERS DOWN THE HALLWAY of the living room looking at the portraits. Paintings would fill every inch of the academy. All kinds of portraits would be sprawled out across the walls. The girl ceased at a portrait where it shows her brother Five Hargreeves, recalling the very moment of him going missing.

She remembered when she would always looked out her window on the porch, seeing if he would come back, but he never did.

~☂︎~

IN THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY RESIDENCE, the morning started just like any other with the Hargreeves'. The sound of a ring of a bell echoed through the Academy as the uniformed Hargreeves' children walked in a single file to the breakfast table. Once they got there, they waited patiently for their father to arrive, standing behind their chairs, quietly doing so.

After a few minutes Reginald came in alongside Zero who had her hands tucked tightly behind her back. Once they destinated to the table, the two departed wit Zero taking her seat beside Number Six, and Reginald positioning himself behind his own chair.

"Sit."

At the sound of the command, the children quickly reacted by pulling up their chairs and taking their seats. The children individually proceed to do their own things, with Herr Carlson playing in background. With Number Two scratching his knife into the arm rest of the chair, trying not to be caught by his strict father or snitch brother Number One who was eye flirting and exchanging smiles with Number Three, reciprocating. Number Four fiddled with some paper under the table, alongside Number Six who leaned over showing Zero a page in a book he liked by Anton Chekov, knowing Zero liked to read as well. Number Seven was at the right end of the table, quietly eating her meal.

But there was one certain Hargreeves that had trouble sealing his anger and irritation; And that Hargreeves was the prideful and mastermind Number Five. You see, Five had a burning desire to be able to test his ability to time travel and it ate him up inside that his father wouldn't allow him with a loathing passion. Instead of eating he stared down his father from the opposite end of the table, in vaxation; anger and frustration building up inside him. When his anger finally boiled over he grabbed his knife and jabbed it into the table. The loud sound caused everyone to turn his attention to him, with Zero’s frightened shoulders hoping.

"Number Five?" Reginald questions.

"I have a question."

"Knowledge is an admirable goal, but you know the rules. No talking during meal times. You are interrupting Herr Carlson." Reginald replies.

Unsatisfied with his father's educated response Five forcefully pushes his plate forward and stands up.

"I want to time travel." Five said.

"No."

"But I'm ready. I've been practicing my spatial jumps, just like you said." Five got up from his seat and demonstrated him doing a spatial jump, appearing next to Reginald. Five's power was Spatial Jumping, which gives him the ability to teleport both short and long distances.

"A spatial jump is trivial when compared with the unknowns of time travel. One is like sliding along the ice, the other is akin to descending blindly into the depths of the freezing water and reappearing as an acorn."

Five's hands balled up in his pockets.

"I don't get it."

"Hence the reason you're not ready."

Zero peers around the table at everyone's gaping facial expressions. But her eyes specifically trained on Number Seven, who gave a shake of the head no to Five, trying to get him to sit back down and stop pushing the issue.

"I'm not afraid."

"Fear isn't the issue. The effects it might have on your body, even on your mind, are far too unpredictable. Now, I forbid you to talk about this anymore." Reginald demanded, but Five still set up above everyone challenged at his father's utterance. The last thing Zero remembered was him running off outside, never to be seen again.

"Number Five. You haven't been excused! Come back here!"

Zero knew what he was going to do as she got up from her seat.

"Number Zero. Sit. Back. Down."

Zero didn't listen as she kept looking towards the door. Number Six tugged on her uniform sleeve a little, trying to get her attention. Number Six, observed her expression. It looked like she was trying to focus on something.

"Number Zero. Sit down. NOW!" Reginald yelled, making Zero snap out of her trance. She sat back down, hoping Five didn't do anything rash.

Number Six put his hand on Zero's shoulder, trying to make her feel better.

Therefore Number Five was never seen again, leaving his father, Grace, and his siblings behind, not aware of the consequences he would have to face.

~☂︎~

ZERO LOOKED AT the portrait a little longer, before turning away. She then trailed to the various family portraits that were displayed. Well, Zero wouldn't exactly call it a family portrait. Not everyone was entirely included. She and Vanya were not allowed to be in family portraits.

To Zero, these portraits weren't just any kind of portraits with her family just posing. To her it captured the emotions of her siblings trying to hold it together year after year as they evolved.

Zero would always look to the side at Vanya, seeing her with a downcast look on her face whenever she was not included. She remembered that she would always look away to the side, whenever she felt like she disappointed Reginald. Zero would just have a blank facial expression, being the most disciplined, that she became like a mindless zombie, always obeying when she was told to do something. She would only simply nod when spoken to. That's what caused her to get more mute over the years. So you can't expect a whole conversation with her, just a few conversations, never really speaking to anyone besides, her dear brother.

Number Six

~☂︎~

EVERYONE EXCEPT ZERO was gathered in Luther's room.

"S-she's kinda weird, right? I mean think about it." Number Two said.

"I don't think she's weird." Number Seven said quietly that no one heard.

"Yeah and she's always going off with Dad somewhere. It's like she's getting more and more mindless every day." Number Four said.

"You don't understand." Five suddenly said. This made everyone look to Five.

"You can't call her weird because you don't understand her. We don't know what she's going through. Don't judge something you don't understand." When Five finished everyone got quiet, taking into consideration what Five just said.

Number Three looked around to see Number Six gone.

"Hey, where's Six?"

~☂︎~

NUMBER SIX WENT OUT OF LUTHER'S ROOM to see Zero’s door wide open. He walked quietly to the door with a book in hand. Six peeped around the corner of the door to see Zero reading a book. He was kinda overjoyed to see that Zero had the same interest as him.

Six slowly started to walk in. When he took another step, the floor creaked, making Zero go stiff and turn around slowly. She looked to see Six, standing just outside her door. Zero was slightly surprised to see one of her siblings at her door. Usually, everyone would just ignore her as if she wasn't there. As if she was nothing. As if she mattered 0%. At least that's what Reginald told them to do.

"U-uh hi."

Zero just stared at him in surprise.

"Um, I got this book for you. I've noticed how much you like to read, s-so I thought it would be nice. It's really good. I promise." He handed the book over to her. Zero hesitantly looked at him and then the book She hesitantly took it and looked at the cover. Zero always liked hardcover books.

"Well enjoy the book, okay? Bye." Six started to exit the room, but before he could the unbelievable happened.

"T-t-thanks." Zero managed utter out quietly enough for Six to hear.

Number Six's eyes widened, then his expression slowly turned into a smile before walking away.

Zero looked to see if he was gone before opening the book.

~☂︎~

ZERO GAVE A SMALL SMILE at the memory, but not before remembering that he doesn't exist now. He passed years after Five’s disappearance. She didn't even get to attend the funeral. She could only watch from her secured shut window. The two were best friends ever since that day. Zero always thought Six was a little weird at first, but she started warming up to him day by day. He was truly a real brother to her.

~☂︎~

EVERYONE WAS IN the dining room eating dinner except Zero who just staring down at her plate. Everyone kept giving occasional glances at her, with concerned glances. Zero glanced at the empty seat next to her. The seat that would never be filled again.

"Number Zero, stop staring at your food and eat, this instant.

"I.......I..

All of a sudden the building started to shaking uncontrollably. Causing everyone to be frightened.

"Number Zero, control yourself!" Reginald demands. But Zero just keeps staring at her plate.

"Number Zero."

"Number Zero!"

Suddenly the shaking came to a stop. Everyone was staring at Zero wide-eyed. None of them knew what her powers were. It has always been a mystery. Not even Reginald Hargreeves himself knew, which is why he had to keep her contained.

" .......I'm....sorry..."

"Perhaps it's best if you go back to your room, where you belong." Reginald said with disappointment written on his face.

Zero simply nodded and headed back to her room that felt like a prison she could never escape.

Seven and Four watched sympathetically as Zero walked to her room.

She heard the sound of her door locking, signaling that she couldn't go back out.

~☂︎~

ZERO WAS IN HER ROOM looking in the mirror at her 13-year-old body. Why is she still young? Zero ages very slowly. Reginald gave his blood to slow down Zero's aging process. Even though she is technically 29, because of her slow age process she's still just a kid. Zero rubbed the eye bags under her eyes on her pale (s/c) skin from lack of sunlight. As she did this, she thought about how her life is now.

One had to leave for his mission on the moon. And Zero knew it wasn't for any important reason.

She doesn't know what the rest of her siblings, besides Seven are doing. Which is kind of sad if you think about it. Zero was so trapped in her own house all her life that she didn't realize how isolated she is from everything.

From everyone, shielded from the world.

Seven became a writer and a violinist. Zero would always read her book about what it was like for her in Umbrella Academy. She couldn't grasp why Vanya was right such a thing like this in the first place. Giving up the family secrets just like that. She still remembered when she was getting ready to leave.

~☂︎~

Zero looked to see her sister heading out the door.

"You have to go?" Zero said making Seven turn around.

"Yes, I have to go. I have no place here anymore. I'll try to come to visit okay." Seven said going over to hug her, but Zero quickly backed away shaking her head. Seven looked at her sympathetically. She knew Zero wasn't used to touch.

"You'll be okay, right?"

There was a long pause before Zero nodded.

Seven smiled and headed to the door. The truth was that she didn't want to leave Zero at that hellish place, but Zero was still in Reginald's custody.

"Bye, Zero," Seven said before she left, leaving Zero alone, waving goodbye at nothing. Her hand slowly came down as Reginald lead her back to her room.

~☂︎~

ZERO BRUSHED HER HAIR, fixing her tied up, red headband, getting ready for the funeral. What she didn't know was that her family was coming.

And that this day was going to change her life.

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ladyeliot · 4 years ago

Photo

Aftermath

Request: This is a request that @mycosmicparadise asked me for a long time ago. Sorry, sweetie.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger Female Reader

Summary: After the events in New York, the team reunites to carry out the mission to get Loki's scepter, but things go wrong and your mission changes completely, now you have to go after Ultron, but you find yourself unable to keep your powers under control.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of abuse.

Word count: 3972

A/N: Avengers Age of Ultron. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Reader's powers: She is a powerful empath, as she can sense and manipulate other people's emotions. Proficient unarmed combatant.

Hydra, Research Base, Eastern Europe.

You felt like your insides were full of hate and rage, every person you met through the thick forest, the only thing they felt when they saw you was dislike, mixed with the anger of wanting to get rid of you. Your powers worked because you kept your own emotions under control, but it was a constant struggle, as you used to feel inside you the emotions that others possessed and that made your insides filled with every negative emotion.

"Shit!" you heard Tony through the relay you had inserted in the back of your ear.

"Language!" Steve instantly rebutted him.

You held your position through the thick forest of Sokovia, Hydra's base was on top of a mountain, or rather it was the mountain itself, for around it they had built a rather impenetrable base that you wanted to access in order to get the Sceptre that you were unable to take from Loki at the time. Numerous clearly trained soldiers were trying to stop you in your tracks. Jarvis had informed you that the building was protected by an energy shield, which was against you as it was the most advanced technology you had seen in any Hydra base of operations.

"Loki's sceptre must be in there," Thor announced, as you guarded one of those soldiers under your body rendering him completely unconscious. "They couldn't have those defences without it."

You ran across the field trying to close the gap with Natasha, who was a few metres ahead of you, Clint following.

"Okay," you said staring at one of your targets and getting him to lower his gun to tackle him, "so what do we do?"

"Wait a second," Tony interjected. "No one else is going to deal with the fact that Cap just said "language?"

"I know," Steve replied, making your eyes roll at the distraction they were causing in the middle of the mission.

The graze of bullets was almost audible through your body, it seemed to go on forever, you had been going on for hours and all you could manage to do was run into more troops sent by Hydra to hold you in that quadrant of the forest. Natasha was trying to get rid of two guys who had tackled her, you turned to her and stared at one of them but just as you were about to make the mental connection something that you barely noticed made you fall to the ground.

"What the hell?" you exclaimed getting up again and looking around you hoping to find the cause of it.

"We've got an upgrade," Steve informed you.

"Wait, you don't call her 'language'?" Tony complained at the situation. "Okay, I'll tell her. Language!"

At that instant a muffled shout from Clint sounded behind you.

"Clint!" Natasha had effectively freed herself from the two henchmen and you both headed towards Clint, who had been shot from a bunker. "Clint's hurt. Can someone take care of that bunker?"

As if Natasha's words were an order, Hulk appeared out of nowhere to overwhelm the small building and the soldiers inside. You stood up and turned your full attention to your surroundings while Nat continued to perform the necessary treatment to alleviate the blow that your companion had received.

"Clint is in bad shape, he needs to be evacuated," Nat reported over the transmitter, as Thor and the Captain instantly landed next to you. "I can take Barton to the Quinjet," Thor replied and focused his gaze on Steve. "The sooner we leave the better.

"Copy that," Steve replied for both of you, but at that moment he noticed your face.

"Roger that," Steve replied for both of you, but at that moment he noticed your face. "Are you all right?"

You nodded, returning to an introspective position beside Natasha.

On the ride home, silence flooded the Quinjet more than ever, the mission had finally succeeded but it wasn't really in the air, it wasn't felt inside any of you, even though Stark had proposed a victory party.

The following days nothing had gone as planned, the analysis of the sceptre that Stark and Banner had carried out, more than an analysis it was a reconfiguration of a network of neurons that they had found, in order to create an artificial intelligence. Artificial intelligence that they used in Stark's secret 'peacekeeping' programme called Ultron, designed to allow the Iron Legion to operate independently. That brought some trouble, when at the end of the Party he showed up to personally attack you, well rather, the whole of humanity, as Ultron thinks the best way to save Earth is to eradicate humanity, he might be partly right.

"Ultron is gone," Banner's voice echoed within the four walls of the lab, "he has used the internet as an escape route."

"Ultron," you whispered to yourself, as one hand covered your face thoroughly.

"He's been all over. Files, surveillance," Natasha explained. "He knows more about us than we know about each other."

As the conversation continued to escalate, emotional energies radiated through the atmosphere, and you picked up on every one of them. Negativity, gathered together with worry, confusion and concern took over your body, you still felt a resentment from the attack you experienced three days ago in Sokovia, which managed to heighten each of the sensations. You closed your eyes as you hid your face with one hand and the other voices became ominous, frustrating your senses. Natasha was the only person who seemed to notice your situation, stopping the voices with a "guys", but just as they stopped, a small laugh from a completely distracted Tony typing on the computer made you burst.

"You think that's funny?" the hand hiding your face disappeared to give way to hard features and a raised, gruff tone of voice, Tony turned and looked at you a little quizzically, but you could see a hidden smile.

"No," he said indifferently. "It probably isn't, is it? This is terrible, it's so..." again his laughter tackled him, causing you to be completely confused and your frustration to grow. "I know. It's so terrible."

"It's just as terrible that you're taunting all of us right now with your fucking arrogance," you said approaching him.

"No," his tone unlike yours seemed pleasant and friendly, "It really is funny, just like it's funny that you don't understand why we need him," Tony closed the distance with you, positioning the two of you in the middle of the lab, his voice had completely changed it was just as gruff as yours.

"Tony, maybe this isn't the time," Bruce interjected in a melodic tone.

"So, a killer robot was what we needed?" you reproached, lifting your chin to position yourself against his height. "The shield that was supposed to free us from alien threats frees us by wiping out all of humanity, yeah, really brilliant."

"Remember I put a nuke through a wormhole?" he rebuked you, recalling for the umpteenth time that night the event in New York. "Tell me, how did you plan to win that? What was your damned solution to get rid of that damned hostile alien army that came through that wormhole in space?"

"Together," Steve interjected quickly, causing Tony to look away from you and back at Steve.

You made the air rush into your lungs offering you some relaxation, instigating your mind to let positive memories come to you. Your differences with Tony were known, your understanding of his views was limited, a fact that generated the occasional verbal conflict between the two of you, let's just say you couldn't stand each other more than you deserved.

The night was long, mostly because there was hardly any rest after planning what you were going to do to stop Ultron, which led you to South Africa.

"She should stay," Nat's whisper reached your ears. "The mission in Sokovia has left her with aftermath she has yet to overcome."

"Oh, last night was a aftermath?" Tony from the pilot's seat added to the conversation. "Nice."

"You know I'm here and I can hear you?" you asked without opening your eyes from your seat. "I'm coming down, worry about you guys that..."

"Okay, listen," Tony stood up from the command post. "I may regret saying this but I agree with her. I think you should stay here with Banner. Keep you two company. Get to know each other better. You know."

"Why don't you stay here, Tony, and get to know Banner better?" you opened your eyes and looked at Tony, but thought for a second. "Well, I'd better not, lest you get the bright idea to create Ultron's sister."

"He's an only child," Tony countered your irony.

"The roles are split," you added as a definitive point. "I'll take the girl, you take Ultron."

From a mountain fortress to a ship in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. You entered its interior, a quite feasible target, when in fact what you all feared lay within. Darkness fell over your pupils, the smell of dampness professed in every corner.

"You're with me, aftermath," reported a voice from behind a suit of armour. "Stay sharp, this guy is made by me."

The long corridors soon took you deep into the heart of the ship, they were as eager to run into you as you were to run into them, so it was only a couple of minutes before you were reunited in a vast maze of iron catwalks.

"Stark is a sickness!" exclaimed that robot called Ultron.

"Ahh, Junior," Tony posed in front of him and his two enhanced companions, "You're gonna break your old man's heart."

From that moment on things happened too fast for a clear description to be made. The corridors seemed to lengthen as you tried to keep that enhanced girl, Wanda, away from the others. She was powerful, trying to play with your mind and you with hers. It was a battle of mental endurance, if you could keep your mind blank and safe from all the negative things she was trying to make you see, you could keep going. It seemed doable, you seemed to have it under control, you had freed yourself from the transmitter that kept you in contact with the others to avoid any external distractions, but none of that was enough when a new enhancement came into play making you lose your balance completely, you felt the emptiness flooding you, as if your body was falling unchecked into the darkness.

A halo of light circled over your eyes making you recognise what was around you, you had escaped, you had fled from that ship thousands of miles in space and time. A figure that you recognised instantly was in front of you, smiling at you, raising her hand to caress your face, it was the figure of your mother, she was laughing, but with each laugh the atmosphere became darker. The main living room of your house appeared before your eyes, but it seemed totally neglected, the furniture was worn out, there was dust and mould in every corner, your mother was prostrate on the floor and a figure without a face was on top of her beating her, you heard the screams of a little girl, they were quite familiar, they were yours. That scene began to repeat itself over and over again, reliving your childhood, you fought to try to change it, but you had no control over it or over your mind at that moment, time after time the pain invaded you and although you tried to stop it, it became impossible again. You had entered a loop, you had lost track of time and space, you couldn't run away from it. Your own mind had become part of it.

Your ears only picked up your screams and those of your mother, you kept your eyes open but your vision was not able to see, you fell to your knees wherever you were in reality and you stayed there, until someone managed to locate you.

"I got her," as a faint whisper drifted into the scene you were living. "Okay. You're safe, I've got you."

As if you were again falling into the void your body rose into the air, and the darkness once again hovered over you, causing all your limbs and your brain to go into a deep, eternal sleep.

Without really knowing where you were, you could hear a faint hissing sound that came more and more strongly to your senses. Light broke through your eyelids, which were struggling against their will to open. Familiarity with the space made you realise where you were. The whistling sound was coming from the air hitting the Quinjet, for all was silent inside. You sat up slowly, the mental pain was suffocating, not only because of what you had seen and what you had been through, but because you could feel the same sensations all around you.

You sat up, covering your face with your hands and hiding it between your legs trying to pull yourself together, but at that moment you felt someone kneel down right in front of you and put a hand on the back of your neck.

"What can I do?" Tony's voice sounded cautious, but there was really little he could do in those few square metres of anguish, so you just shook your head. "Okay, look at me," you shook your head again not wanting to have direct access to any more emotions at the moment, "Look at me. Please."

Your breathing was rapid and your heart kept shrinking, causing a lump in your throat that almost prevented you from breathing. You couldn't extract everything you had inside you, nor could you find the calm you needed to let him go, you were afraid to look at him to interfere with his feelings and manipulate them by offering him yours, you were also afraid of acquiring his negative emotions and adding them to your own. But still you felt his hand go to your chin and he gently lifted it up to catch your face in his gaze.

"In a couple of hours we'll be in a shelter," his face was close, his fingers held firmly on your chin. "Do you think you'll be okay?"

A subtle nod is what you offered in reply, Tony nodded as well and took a seat right next to you after having moved closer to Barton.

"In a couple of hours we'll be in a shelter," his face was close, his fingers held firmly on your chin. "Do you think you'll be okay?"

A subtle nod is what you offered in reply, Tony nodded as well and took a seat right next to you after having moved closer to Barton. Those two hours seemed endless, you kept your hands pressed to your temple trying to forget what you had seen, but more so what you had felt. Tony, along with Barton were the only ones who had not suffered the effects of Wanda Maximoff's mind control on you on that occasion, it was evident from the physical and mental state of the other teammates.

Tony stayed by your side for the entire 120 minutes, worried and afraid that everything that had happened was his fault, and it was all coming back to you.

"Stop," you whispered trying to get Tony's attention.

"How?" he whispered and bent his face closer to yours, which was resting on your hands.

"Stop flogging yourself, I've had enough of the others," you pleaded a little rudely, unable to control yourself.

"I'm sorry," he placed his palm on your back, but an uncomfortable gesture from your shoulder caused him to remove it a second later. "I'm sorry."

A couple of hours later, the Quinjet took up position on a large greenish esplanade, the greenest thing your eyes had ever seen in your life. In the centre was a small cottage, cosy enough for anyone to see. Tony held you firmly, as it seemed that your body would fall if he let go. You went inside together, a hospitable warmth surrounded each of your limbs causing you to get some peace in you after hours.

Time seemed to have taken its toll on your senses, as you barely understood half of what was being said around you. But everything changed when two children entered, bringing joy and life to the room, it was the most comforting thing you had felt in weeks, the innocence that each of them possessed was like a breath of fresh air to you. You gently removed your arm from Tony's shoulders, murmuring "I'm feeling better," and he returned an "Okay" with a still worried look on his face. Actually Barton's idea of taking you there had been really successful for all of you, except for Thor who left, but for the rest of you it was something you'd never been able to contemplate in your lives, kind of like what it would be like to have a family.

Sunset was near and the view from that wooden porch surrounding the house was charmingly soothing.

"You look good," Tony appeared behind you with his hands in his pockets and perched next to you, leaning on the railing.

"Thank you," you said, looking back up at the grove of trees that loomed before your eyes. "And thanks for earlier."

" For what?" he asked with confusion in his voice.

"When you tried to reassure me on the Quinjet," you said without looking at him. "And... I think it was also you who took me back."

"Yep," Tony put his hand to the back of his neck and turned to you. "The truth is, that process would have been a lot more feasible if you hadn't gotten rid of the transmitter, it would have saved me a lot of time."

"I know," you ducked your face, but a small smile appeared on it.

"Do you want to talk?" Tony's voice seemed somewhat hesitant after stating the question.

"No," you shook your face, letting the last rays of sunlight fall on him. "Do you want to talk?"

"What do you feel?" he answered your question with another question, ignoring it completely. "What do you feel inside when you feel us?"

"I feel what other people are feeling," you explained, looking at him for the first time. "If I concentrate I can feel what you're feeling right now, or what Steve is feeling, or how the Hulk feels when he turns."

"How?"

That conversation you'd had on several occasions in your life, but at no point had you had it with Tony, you hadn't been close at any point, closeness you could find in Natasha or even Steve, but not in Tony, that's why that moment was peculiar, as well as comforting.

"It's easy when my emotions are in control," you turned your body towards him and leaned against the wooden railing. "I just have to look at my target and focus on how he feels, knowing that whatever is inside him I'm going to feel it too," you focused your gaze on Tony's eyes, "for instance, right now you're remorseful about what happened with Ultron, but you also feel misunderstood because no one understands your point of view, you're also melancholy about being in this place, a little envious about discovering the life that Barton has, and..." you paused slightly as you discovered one of his feelings, but you chose to ignore it, as he seemed to be really nervous about the process of analysis he was undergoing, "embarrassed because right now I'm feeling the same way you are.”

You offered him a slight smile, which he himself returned a little nervously at the exposition you had offered him, Tony was a very rigorous person when expressing himself and this had completely thrown him off.

"That..." he put one hand nervously to the back of his neck while the other was hidden in his trouser pocket. "Great, I guess it's nice to know I'm not empty. But well, we'd better keep this between us."

"Of course," for the first time you felt a little satisfied with your task just done, it was nice to see that this person could shed his pride on several occasions.

"Well, I'd better go and help Rogers chop wood," he said, standing up beside you and scratching the bridge of his nose.

" Yes, he certainly looks like he could use your help," you commented wryly as Steve had little difficulty chopping wood in one fell swoop.

"Yeah," he shoved his hands in his pockets and slipped out of the place as quickly as possible.

Within a minute you could feel him perch next to you again, leaning his body on the railing and looking at you.

"That's all you found?" he asked with a frown and gesturing nimbly with his hand, a gesture that denoted nervousness. "I mean, there was nothing else."

"What do you mean?" you frowned as he did, looking completely puzzled, since you already knew what he meant.

"Well..." he scratched the back of his neck again, "Do you usually do this to me? I mean, have you ever gone inside my head before to see how I'm feeling or have you only done it this once? Is it usual?"

"Do you really think I want to know what you keep in your head Tony?" you asked holding back a laugh at his reaction.

"Okay," he gave a long nod biting the inside of his lip. "And there was nothing else you said?"

"Do you want me to try again? Maybe I can find something else," you offered humbly, knowing what he wanted.

"No, it's... all right," his words were accompanied with a step back, putting distance between you and him. "It's all right. I'm... going to go help Cap."

"Okay," you bit your lower lip as you watched him disappear behind you again. behind you again.

You watched as Tony walked over to Steve's pile of firewood and picked up an axe to imitate his movements. You remained in your position, keeping your gaze lost in that grove of trees that made you feel so calm, but it was very easy to catch Tony's gaze watching you from his position. He knew that you had felt it, because perhaps it was one of the emotions that was strongest inside him at that moment, but evidently you didn't want to expose it out loud, and let him know that you had discovered it. Yet there it was, and it was going to take you too long to forget that feeling, because it felt too good to let it go.

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lesbiansforboromir · 4 years ago

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I’m sorry if you’ve answered this somewhere else, but does Denethor know what his eldest is getting up to with Theodred?

And if Denethor doesn’t know, how would he react to finding out, please?

This depends upon a few things! In general I tend to go for the canon that Boromir doesn’t tell his father because he sees no reason too and Denethor doesn’t find out. Boromir and Denethor have a very paired down relationship, it revolves quite necessarily around their duties and whilst they’re both warmly dedicated too them, Boromir wouldn’t tell Denethor something if it didn’t seem necessary. There’s other stuff to it, Boromir’s generally very private, he struggles in putting himself in vulnerable positions where he’s making something ABOUT him, he doesn’t know his dad’s reaction for certain and JUST the conversation seems like a lot of risk and effort for (in his mind) not much gain.

However! I’ve also pondered a situation where Boromir as a younger and ‘still figuring it out’ 18 year old gets close to being outed. It doesn’t come to anything and he sorts it out on his own without too much fuss, but the incident makes it clear that he might not be in control of this at all times. AND if he were to be outed it would effect his ability to do his job. Which is something he SHOULD tell his dad about.

So the conversation is very much geared as a ‘report’, after dinner one night Boromir just says ‘I actually have something else to discuss with you, if you have time tonight. Not a pressing matter but it could be important.’ And that is very normal for Boromir to say, and Denethor nods and takes him back to his office, and he asks with a little humour "so, is this more work for you or for me?" and Boromir laughs and Denethor actually does not know anything is amiss until Boromir pauses after saying ‘I will hope it is just for me, but at the risk it comes to your desk... ‘

And Boromir just! Says ‘I am ill-fated.’ which irritates him because whilst queer communities have other names for themselves, those terms are not universally known, especially not to the general populace, so ‘ill-fated’ is all he has to describe it. And it’s not just derogatory, it’s also unspecific! Other things are called ill-fated, it is not a queer specific term. So Boromir has to clarify ‘in the ‘he is lead to the river’ sense, I have not been formally cursed.’

And well Boromir has to distance himself from this moment, it’s a discussion about his duties, it’s not about him, this is not vulnerable. Meanwhile Denethor (a person who only calls himself a man out of necessity not desire or comfort), with his calm and impassive expression, is wrestling down a vicious surge of protective fervour alongside 30 years of queer liberation theory. There are approximately 200 things Denethor wants to say to Boromir, but by this time he knows Boromir’s implicit request has always been to be distant. Denethor’s emotions are too heavy for his son to bear alongside the weight of duty he also carries, and Denethor has respected this need in Boromir. The absolute last thing Boromir would want is to feel like Denethor needs to protect him, that is entirely antithetical to his responsibilities.

SO Denethor swallows down the ‘that’s my boy, that’s my son’ and the worry and the empathy and everything else, pauses a moment to try and thread the needle here, and in the end he just acknowledges what Boromir has told him, and why. ‘you tell me this as warden, as my heir, and you are wise to do so, for unfortunately, there are those who would use this to sow trouble that goes beyond you or I’ And Boromir is immediately relieved. Because that held all the information he wished to know inside it, without too much intensity. Denethor has no issue with him, Boromir’s position is unchanged, Denethor understands the situation and he is content.

Boromir says ‘Trouble enough! I am well experienced in navigating it but I am not as blessed as Faramir and luck has toyed with me from time to time.’ and he pauses and then says, ‘I should perhaps not engage with it at all. Which I would do, if you concurred.’ And it's been hard! He's felt guilt during this exploratory phase, he never meant to make a community, he never meant to actually be invested, he needed to know the ‘issue’ enough within himself to control it. But now he's understood by a group! He has a community and he doesn't want to leave it behind, as much as he knows that would be sensible. And Denethor’s say-so would allow him to cut those ties!

But Denethor’s composure breaks here ever so briefly as he makes this sharp halting motion with his hand. ‘No, no, do not.’ A pause and then, ‘I have every faith in you. And it is always better to have friends than not.’ And truly, it’s never been easier to see relief on his son’s face before! Usually Boromir is unreadable, even to Denethor, but just for this moment it’s almost too clear. Clear enough to see Boromir realise it himself and look uncomfortable about it. A discomfort Denethor knows how to solve, though he resents the remedy, ‘Besides, you are worth more to Gondor a whole man. Splitting yourself into pieces that way would serve no one.’

And Boromir’s smiling! He’s relieved, reassured, settled and back to being confident with this newfound purpose and logic. It WOULD serve no one, and to serve is his ultimate goal and drive. So he is satisfied. And Denethor has to accept, once again, that his son needs his joys to be of service to Gondor to entertain them. Which is gruelling! But exactly what they need! And he wishes again that Boromir were less accepting of his lot, he wishes again that Finduilas was here so that he might tell her this and hear what she would say. IT’S A LOT, but it’s very short! And really like... THATS IT. Everything continues on as it did before, exactly as it did.

UNTIL PERHAPS... hmm... Boromir’s marriage. I think Boromir would have told Denethor about Theodred eventually. But again that joy had to be muted to be expressed and whilst Denethor was happy to hear of it, they both knew there wasn’t much to be done. Denethor welcomed Theodred warmly to Minas Tirith the few times he came and liked him more for knowing he had Boromir’s love and good opinion.

But I DO THINK, for the actual wedding, the weight of tradition and ‘rightness’ would finally outweigh the repression. And Boromir wouldn’t have to ask Denethor to move mountains to figure out a way to properly symbolically welcome Theodred into their family. Which is a big deal!! In Gondor!!! Culturally and socially and practically! And Denethor would do his best to either attend the ceremony or craft some other small meeting. And the silk with Theodred’s blue handprint is kept safe in his desk somewhere, marking the tying of Theodred’s fate with the rivers of life of the House of Hurin.

I GOT... carried away... and a little sleepy towards the end but I hope this is readable I read through it exactly 1 times.

#boromir #denethor #tolkien #erran vs tolkien #borodred #some of this requires you to have read... about three other meta posts of mine to understand #BUT HERE #I am sleepy #chats #thank you very much for the question uwu #casually reminds everyone that denethor is some sort of trans and I have quotes to prove it #but I keep not posting them because I want to write the post right #Anonymous #asks

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melzula · 4 years ago

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how about a fire liiies blurb about princess reader, zuko and iroh coming across azula after the invasion of the north?

a/n: the first half is so much longer than the second oh goodness but I hope you enjoy!

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

“Run away with me.”

“We’ll go wherever you’d like, it doesn’t matter as long as we’re together.”

“We’re going to be so happy together, y/n.”

“You’re going to be happy with me.”

The ocean breeze that flows through your loose locks of hair is a bittersweet reminder of the home you’d left behind three years ago today. The quiet island you’ve found to rest on is beautiful, but it’s hard to enjoy the peace and tranquility that surrounds you after having grown accustomed to living a life of constant action and chaos. It’s in the moments of stillness that your mind is able swirl with thoughts of guilt and doubt until you begin to feel nauseous and homesick. You love Zuko, and that seems to be the only thing you‘re ever one hundred percent sure of nowadays. The rest is fuzzy and uncertain, but you try not to let it get the best of you.

You’ve kept your distance from Zuko for most of the day, wanting to allow him the necessary amount of space and respect needed to lament over the anniversary of his banishment, but the invisible barrier that separates you both only seems to make things more depressing. You feel guilty for having such thoughts, but you can’t help the small bit of resentment that sits in your heart as you are reminded of the fact that you should be in Ba Sing Se right now instead of sulking on the dock. If you had known you’d be traveling fruitlessly in search of the Avatar, you might have rethought your decision just a bit more. You can’t say you regret your choice, however, because it got you out of an unwanted marriage and gave you an opportunity to grow as a bender, something you never would have gotten at home. Your mother used to say that things always had a funny way of working themselves out, and you had to hope that this piece of advice was true.

A quiet presence seats themself beside you, and you don’t have to look to know that it’s Zuko. There is no tension or awkwardness to the silence you sit in, but there is a bit of nervousness that radiates off of Zuko. He knows today is important to you just like it is to him, though for partly different reasons, and he wants you to feel understood and appreciated. Spirits know he hasn’t done a very good job of that lately.

“Do you like it here?” Zuko asks quietly.

“It’s beautiful,” you hum in response. “I’ve never been anywhere like it.”

“I’m glad,” he nods before opening his palm to you and revealing a beautiful cherry blossom. His cheeks are dusted with a light shade of pink as he clears his throat and gestures to your hair. “May I?”

A gentle smile graces your features at the offer and you nod, allowing Zuko to carefully tuck the flower into your hair. He’ll never be able to understand how someone as beautiful and precious as you could love someone so flawed like himself. What was it that kept you around even after all he put you through? He knew it wasn’t for money nor for a chance to climb your way to the top; you were a Princess who chose to throw everything away to live a simple life as peasants with him in Ba Sing Se. He knew you loved him, but so had his mother and she had still left him. You don’t know it, but Zuko fears the day you decide you’ve had enough and leave him behind.

“You’re beautiful,” Zuko admits with a small smile, and you happily rest your head upon his shoulder and look out at the crystal blue ocean before you. “Thank you for being here with me. I know it hasn’t been easy.”

“Things never are,” you note knowledgeably, “but I don’t mind it. Not when I’m with you.”

“I love you,” Zuko professes, and it occurs to him then that he hasn’t said so in a long while. Yet another fault you seem to ignore because you truly do care for him in a way that no one ever has.

“I love you too. And I truly do believe things are going to get better from here.”

“Let’s go inside,” Zuko says after a moment’s beat. “Uncle should be back from the beach by now.”

Rising from his seat on the dock, Zuko holds his hand out to you and helps you up from the ground before guiding you back up the hills and into your temporary shelter. Neither of you are sure how long you’ll be able to stay here, but with the beautiful cherry blossom trees and kind people who reside on the island, it isn’t exactly a bad place to live. Maybe you can get your fresh start here.

Iroh is there to greet when you return to your little refuge, a vast collection of seashells laid out to admire on the table.

“Look at these magnificent shells!” Iroh exclaimed, handing you a particularly pretty blue conch. “I’ll enjoy these keepsakes for years to come.”

“We don’t need anymore useless things,” Zuko reminds him exasperatedly. “You forget, we have to carry everything ourselves now.”

“Hello, brother,” a voice suddenly interrupts, starting the three of you. “Uncle... Princess.”

“Azula,” you gasp quietly, and Zuko is quick to push you behind him and shield you from his conniving sister.

“What are you doing here?” Zuko asks gruffly.

“In my country, we exchange a pleasant hello before asking questions,” Azula sneers. “Has surrounding yourself with...” she pauses, eyes glancing towards you, “poor company made you become uncivilized so soon, Zuzu?”

“Don’t call me that!” He yells. “And don’t bring into her this.”

“I’ve come with a message from home,” she says casually. “Father regrets your banishment. He wants you home. Family are the only ones you can really trust.”

Your eyes widen slightly at the news, fingertips digging into Zuko’s bicep tightly in apprehension. Home? After all he put Zuko through he’s willing to let him back in just like that? Despite the news he says nothing, makes no move to react, and Azula finds his lack of response unnerving.

“Where’s my thank you?” Azula muses. “I’m not a messenger, I didn’t have to come all this way.”

You narrow your eyes slightly at the Princess when the words leave her mouth; yes, she didn’t have to come all this way, and knowing Azula she wouldn’t have for something so small and unworthy of her time. Why not send a messenger hawk or a soldier or anyone of lesser importance to retrieve Zuko and Iroh? Why send Azula? This whole thing isn’t sitting right with you, and your watchful gaze never leaves her even as she excuses herself for the evening and allows Zuko to mull over the news on his own.

“Father wants me home,” he murmurs quietly, and you and Iroh both exchange uneasy glances with each other.

“I’m going to find some dinner for the night,” you announce, but Zuko doesn’t even seem to hear you or notice your departure. There’s much to think about, and you’d like to do so alone.

The cherry blossoms aren’t as pretty as they had been in the morning, now seeming to loom over you tauntingly with the uncertainty of the future. Even if this wasn’t some sort of trick, you doubt you’d be welcomed with the same warmth Iroh and Zuko would be given. You were an outsider, a water bender, a threat, and a distraction to the Prince. You simply couldn’t see yourself living a life amongst the very same people who threaten the ways of your tribe. It would be wrong, and if you felt guilty now you’d feel utterly awful then. You love Zuko, but you aren’t about to willingly follow him and his sister back to the Fire Nation. After everything you’ve been through, this could be the end of your journey together.

“I have to say, I’m surprised you’ve stuck around for this long,” Azula notes offhandedly as you pick through the fresh fruit of the local market.

“You know how much your brother means to me,” you reply calmly, refusing to let her play her little games with you. “But I know you don’t approve of me, and I know you’ll be happy to hear that I won’t be coming with him.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m going back to the Southern Water Tribe, and I’d appreciate it if you could take me there on your ship. I won’t be in your way and I’ll keep to myself, but if not I can find my own way.”

“Oh, I’d be happy to take you,” Azula replies with a glint in her eye. “After all, as Princesses we have to look out for each other.”

“I suppose that’s true,” you murmur, attempting to pay for your groceries only to have Azula wave you off and do so herself.

“I want you to enjoy your last meal with my brother,” she says with a snide smile. “Once he’s back home I’m sure ZuZu will forget all about you.”

“If that’s what you do want to believe,” you reply emotionlessly before turning to venture back home. You stop in your tracks as Azula calls after you, voice lilting with each syllable.

“You’re not the only girl who has her heart set on being with Zuko,” Azula informs you smugly. “My friend Mai has had her sights on him ever since we were children, and as the daughter of a very power politician I’m sure she’d have no trouble winning him over.”

Your shoulders tense slightly at the information but you don’t give Azula the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of you. Instead, you keep your gaze set straight ahead and let out a small breath of air.

“Thank you for the groceries, Azula,” you reply, then continue on your way home.

Dinner is a silent affair as you quietly pick at your noodles, and it’s only until Iroh leaves the two of you alone that Zuko speaks up.

“You’re upset about something.”

“No I’m not.”

“Your nose gets twitchy whenever you’re upset or troubled,” Zuko points out, and it’s times like these where you wish he didn’t know you as well as he did.

“I won’t be going with you,” you say after letting out a sigh.

“What are you talking about?” He replies with a furrowed bro.

“I know you’re going back home, and I’m not going to stop you from doing so. But I can’t go with you. I’m returning back to the Southern Water Tribe.”

“You can’t do that!” Zuko argues. “What about us?”

“There’s still the secret tunnel,” you remind him, “we can still see each other. I just think this is what’s best for us.”

“I thought you’d want to come with me,” Zuko murmurs dejectedly. “Don’t you want to stay with me?”

“I do. I really do. But do you honestly think I’d be welcomed in the Fire Nation?”

Zuko’s silence is enough of an answer for you to finalize your decision, and with a small sigh you rise from your seat at the table and collect the leftover dishes from dinner.

“I’ll come with you on the ship, but I want to be taken back home.”

Defeated, Zuko watches with a forlorn face as you walk out of the room to wash the dishes. It seems your journey together is coming to an end, and the uncertainty of what lies ahead troubles him greatly. He wants to return home, but he also wants to keep you by his side. What is he to do?

~~~

“We’re taking the prisoners home.”

You knew it was all just a dirty little trick; Azula was capable of anything, even turning in her own brother. It looks like you won’t be returning home any time soon, and neither will Zuko.

You fight off the Fire Nation soldiers alongside Iroh while Zuko handles his sister, using the vast ocean around you to your advantage as you topple men left to right. Thanks to Iroh you’re familiar with their movements and understand their approach, thus making it easier for you block and avoid their attacks before retaliating with your own.

With a final wave of water that washes them off the dock, the three of you are quick to run off as far as you can until your legs are too tired to carry on any further. You stop by a nearby stream, and only once you’re sure you’re safe do you stop to take a breath.

Zuko stares out at the water with a solemn expression on his features, and you watch in quiet admiration as both he and Iroh cut off their top knots. You know what this means, and you know how important and symbolic the action is to them both. Their ties with the Fire Nation have been severed, and there’s no going back now.

“I’m sorry,” you offer lamely, but Zuko still takes your hand in his own and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“You shouldn’t be,” is all he says, and you watch quietly as his severed hair floats along the river.

| tags: @rainteslerrrr @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @coldlilheart @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @djskfkdkkf @xapham @yeetletzgetitjae @misnmatchedsox |

#zuko #zuko x reader #zuko imagine #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko imagine #zuko and the princess #azula #avatar the last airbender #atla #atla x reader #fire lilies #forbidden lovers au #request

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msdanvers · 4 years ago

Text

Apollo x Daphne AU — goddess of music

A gentle breeze touches Lena’s flushed and clammy skin, but it brings no relief – even the air itself is stiflingly hot today. Tree leaves brush against her arms and her cheeks, tickle the soles of her feet, get tangled in her hair. Lena breathes in slowly and lets the scent of the mountains ground her as she makes her way home.

Time has given her the opportunity to memorize the world around her in ways no mortal ever could. She knows the ways rivers flow in winter, after a rainstorm, during a draught. She knows the way they used to flow, and remembers every change. She knows where they end, where they start, when they started.

She would know the way through these mountains blindfolded, on the darkest nights.

Her connection with these forests allows her to notice when something has changed within them – a new presence, or the loss of an old one. Today is one of those moments. Lena isn’t sure what it is. The grass is still scratchy and yellow in the same places as yesterday, still green and soft in others. The cypress trees are still in the same place, and so are the barn owls nesting in their hollows. Even the gray wolves haven’t moved from their resting place since this morning when she left.

Whatever it is, she decides, there is no use dwelling on it now. Lena lets her thoughts drift as she climbs over a fallen tree. Its mossy trunk feels warm on her thighs and hands – familiar, she imagines, like the touch of a lover would feel after centuries of closeness. Intimate, trusting, in a way she herself has never felt with anyone. The thought of it feels familiar even so – she has dreamed of a love like that so often, she can almost feel its warmth.

But romance happens in stories, and a watered-down version of it happens to the other nymphs around her, and nothing like it will ever happen to Lena. She has made peace with that knowledge a long time ago, and if you asked her, she wouldn’t say she’s lonely. Lena treasures the time she spends in solitude, free of judgement and expectations, free of performances. The sweltering heat of today’s noon should be spent just like that, alone.

As she makes her way across a grassy glade, she finally hears the murmur of her river. Lena sighs in relief. She has detested the summer for as long as she can remember, and today’s blinding sun does nothing to change her mind. She can’t wait to dip her tired body in the cold, rushing river water, floating in it with her eyes closed and her mind wandering.

Which is, of course, when she hears it.

Lena stops in her tracks to listen. It’s barely noticeable at first, drowned out by the sounds of singing birds and flowing water, but once she picks it up, it’s unmistakable. Music. Who could it be? Who came to her small corner of the world, only to fill the usual silence with their lyre?

She starts walking again, a bit quicker this time, frowning as she tries to follow the sound to its source. It’s an instrument she has always enjoyed listening to and yet, Lena realizes the longer she listens, this is like nothing she has ever heard. All the satyrs that have played for her seem like children in comparison, now, like novices trying their hand at an instrument they don’t fully understand. No, this, this is what music is supposed to sound like.

Lena pauses when she catches sight of the river, one hand touching the rough bark of a tree. Her last lingering thoughts of turning the other way slip from her mind the moment she looks upstream, and finds a woman.

On a rock in the middle of the river, with her back to Lena, is the white-dressed and golden-haired lyre player. Sunlight plays with her curls and it almost looks like she’s glowing, like the source of light is not the faraway sun but this woman, playing a melody for herself and the world, unaware of her audience.

Silent, transfixed, Lena walks into the water, barely noting its cool touch as she makes her way upstream.

When the woman stops playing, there is a split second of silence in which Lena realizes there is only a few feet of space between herself and this complete stranger. Is it too late to turn away now? Why did she come this close anyway – could this woman be some kind of siren? Did she walk right into her trap?

Those nervous thoughts are forgotten the moment the woman turns around, lowering her legs into the river with a smile on her face. If she is a siren, Lena finds herself thinking, then let it be so. Let this siren lure her in with the sweetness of her song, let her ship be wrecked in the unforgiving ocean waves. She will not resent her for it.

But, like good things tend to do, the smile on the woman’s face vanishes the moment she lays eyes on Lena. Of course. This is not one of her daydreams, this is reality, in its usual painful bluntness. An all too familiar feeling takes hold of Lena’s heart – if she had to choose a word to describe it, she would say it’s disappointment. It’s deeper than that, though, and more expected.

Lena opens her mouth to say – what, she doesn’t know, but something cruel and yet indifferent enough to get this stranger to leave her alone. She doesn’t get the chance.

A sudden note, strange and off-key, paired with the sound of crushing wood, makes Lena look down at the woman’s hands. Her knuckles are white, and the lyre is completely destroyed. Lena feels her eyes widen at both the loss of such a beautiful instrument and the strength it must have taken to break it so easily. The woman doesn’t even seem to be aware of it, her eyes still focused on Lena.

This time when she studies the stranger’s face, Lena starts to wonder if she was too fast in interpreting her expression. Her smile might have fallen, but it never fell into the uninterested, slightly repulsed look that other nymphs generally give her. What she finds is more like shock, or maybe… awe? Lena feels embarrassed even thinking something as hopeful and desperate as that.

“You broke your lyre,” she says, at loss for anything bright to say.

The woman seems startled at her voice, and for one breathtaking heartbeat, she keeps staring at Lena. Then she looks down at the broken pieces of lyre in her hands. She doesn’t seem too bothered as she lays them down behind her and looks back up. “Hi.”

Lena chuckles. “Hi.”

“You have a leaf stuck in your hair.” The woman blinks after she speaks, like she wasn’t expecting herself to say that either.

“Oh.” Lena combs through her hair quickly, suddenly aware that she spent the morning walking through the forest, and probably looks the part. “Where–” she starts, but when she looks up, she suddenly finds herself face to face with the stranger’s very distracting blue eyes.

“Here,” she answers. The woman’s hand brushes against Lena’s before she runs her fingers through her hair. Lena’s eyes flutter closed unconsciously at the woman’s touch, and she exhales slowly, feeling tension leave her body that she hadn’t even been aware of.

“Look.” Lena opens her eyes to the woman’s radiant smile, and she can’t help but return it. She reaches for the leaf that the woman is holding, accidentally-purposely touching her hand more than necessary in the process.

“Thank you,” she says, unconsciously lowering her voice, and – is that a blush on the woman’s cheeks? “You play beautifully, by the way. Sorry for listening in.”

The woman smiles at her. “Well, I’ve had some practice.” It sounds like she’s joking, but Lena missed the punchline. She smiles back anyway.

“What’s your name?”

“Kara,” the woman answers.

Lena laughs, but her smile vanishes when the woman doesn’t join her. “What?” she says, feeling the leaf slip from her fingers. Water splashes around her thighs as she takes a hurried step back. Oh, no. “Kara?”

The woman nods. “What’s yours?”

“You’re an Olympian,” Lena whispers. It makes sense, in the end. Who else but the Olympian goddess of music, the inventor of the instrument itself, could play the lyre so skillfully? Who else but the goddess of the sun, Zeus’ favored daughter, could have such divine beauty – such entrancing charm?

The stranger before her is no stranger at all, but the twin of Artemis the huntress. She is the goddess that killed the mighty Python, son of Gaia herself.

“Yes. And you must be a naiad. I mean, this is a river, and you are very –” the goddess cuts herself off suddenly, frowning a little. “Are you all right?”

Lena takes another step back, her heart beating in her throat. “Forgive me,” she says. She tries to recall everything she said to Kara. Has she offended the goddess, thinking her just another nymph? Should she have bowed for her, paid her respects, offered her food?

Lena knows enough about the wrath of gods to be cautious.

Zeus pursued a girl, refused to take her ‘no’ for an answer, and in retaliation Hera transformed the girl into a cow and drove her to madness. Artemis was disturbed by an unsuspecting hunter while she was bathing, and he was torn to pieces by his own dogs. Kara herself, joined by her twin sister, had slaughtered all fourteen children of the mother who had dared to insult theirs.

Will Lena become the next name to be whispered around fires, remembered for ages for her misfortune and mistakes?

“You are frightened. Of me.” Lena looks up, but finds no ire in Kara’s eyes.

Surely, that can’t be right. Lena has laughed at her, tried to flirt with her. She can only think of one reason the goddess wouldn’t have minded that, but she doesn’t let herself believe it.

“Forgive me,” she says again, because she doesn’t know what else to say.

“There is nothing to forgive. And I’m not going to hurt you.” Kara gently puts a hand on Lena’s arm. “Look at me? There is nothing to forgive.” Lena can’t believe the goddess of archery is looking so… tender. While looking at her. “Breathe.”

Realizing that she did, indeed, forget to do that, Lena takes a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that,” Kara laughs.

“Are you sure I haven’t offended you? I didn’t know…”

“I’m sure.” Then she smiles mischievously. “But I could exact my revenge anyway, if that would make you feel better.”

Lena opens her mouth, and gets hit in the face with a splash of water before she can ask questions.

She spits the water out, too startled to react at first. But Kara is biting her lip, clearly trying not to laugh, and a high and nervous giggle escapes Lena’s lips before she can stop it.

Her hand shoots up to her mouth immediately, as if she could still cover up the sound that has already escaped. But Kara bursts out laughing too, loud and lovely, and Lena couldn’t keep a straight face while hearing that if her life depended on it.

“Now, I bet even a water nymph can’t have better aim than me.”

Lena smiles at her, one eyebrow raised. Her hands are already underwater, her muscles already tightened, before she thinks – this is a god, what am I doing? – and redirects the throw downwards at the very last moment. Managing to avoid Kara’s face, unfortunately, has the side-effect of splashing water all over her dress instead.

Kara looks down at the wet linen clinging to her figure, then back up at Lena, who is trying very hard not to look at it. “I must say, I was expecting better.”

Kara has barely finished her sentence when Lena hits her again, square in the face this time. Lena lets out a short, joyous laugh at the shocked expression on Kara’s face. Then, before the goddess can retaliate, she dives into the river and swims away as fast as she can. She feels the water shift behind her and knows she’s being pursued.

The muffled sounds of the underwater world mix with the fast beating of her excited heart as they shoot through the river. The water gets deeper the further she goes, rocks and plants flashing by as she swims and swims and swims. She feels strong and alive and her smile doesn’t fade until she finds her way blocked by a school of fresh-water fish.

Lena doesn’t really feel like swimming into them face-first, so she dives down to the bottom of the river. Her hands disappear in squishy mud before finding solid rock, and she pushes herself upwards again.

But the move slowed her down, and when she looks over her shoulder, a flash of white and gold is all the warning she gets before muscular arms catch her around the waist and a body slams into hers.

She barely has time to register Kara’s closeness before she realizes what’s happening. Kara was coming from beside her, and now they’re going way too fast in what is decidedly not the direction they should be going. They’re headed straight for the shore.

Kara manages to turn Lena around in her arms and pull her close before they collide with the riverside pebbles, spraying them everywhere.

It doesn’t hurt – both her head and her back have somehow made a soft landing, even though Kara ended up on top of her. They’re both panting when she opens her eyes and finds Kara’s face close to hers, her cheeks flushed and her eyes concerned.

“Are you okay?”

Lena nods and smiles. Kara smiles back and they don’t say a word, but then they’re laughing again, uncontrollably and without shame. She doesn’t just hear Kara’s laugh, she feels it, reverberating through the parts of their bodies that are touching.

When Kara wriggles her arms free from under Lena’s body, one of her hands disappears from its place under Lena’s head.

Oh. That explains the lack of pain. Kara must have taken the brunt of the impact.

“Are you okay?” Lena asks, frowning.

“Of course,” Kara answers with a lopsided smile. She is leaning on her forearms, now, hovering over Lena. The sun above her is like a halo, a crown of light that paints the edges of her silhouette golden. Lena breathes in the forest air, the familiar scent of the river joined by an unfamiliar sweetness, a sweetness that must be Kara.

Their bodies are intertwined, the river still flowing past their legs while most of Lena’s body is resting on the sun-warmed shore they crashed into. And most of Kara’s body is resting on Lena, her warmth seeping through the fabric of their clothes.

A drop of water falls from Kara’s nose and lands on Lena’s cheek. Lena chuckles, and Kara smiles with her whole face, her eyes twinkling as she wipes it away with a finger. It’s unnecessary, seeing as Lena’s whole face is still dripping with river water anyway, but she can’t bring herself to care.

Then Kara breathes out and Lena feels it.

The air brushes against her lips, and her eyes flick down to Kara’s mouth. Her heart beats in her chest like it’s trying to escape, and Lena briefly wonders if Kara can feel it too, wonders if some of what she feels is Kara’s heart, not just her own. Then she wonders what it would feel like if Kara were to lean down just a little, what she would taste like if they closed the distance and…

“I’m sorry. I should go,” Kara says.

Lena’s hands slip away from Kara’s waist when she pushes herself up, leaving Lena behind, startled and breathless. Her wet dress feels sticky and cold against her skin in the absence of Kara’s touch, the pebbles in her back suddenly too sharp, the sunlight too bright.

How could she have misread the situation so badly?

Lena sits up too, feeling her whole face flush in embarrassment. She can’t bring herself to look at Kara. She lets her hair fall between them like a shield, and looks down at her fiddling hands instead.

“Can I visit you again?”

Her gaze shoots up when Kara breaks the silence, and she finds the goddess looking at her with a tentative smile.

Lena is silent, stunned, for a long moment. Too long, probably, because Kara nods to herself and starts to get up.

“It was lovely to meet you,” Kara says, and it sounds like a farewell – why does it sound like a farewell?

“Wait,” Lena says softly.

“Don’t worry, it’s all right. I’ll just –” Kara starts walking away, and Lena’s heart skips a beat.

“No, wait!” Lena captures Kara’s hand and she almost forgets how to breathe when Kara’s eyes meet hers. “I’d… love to see you again.”

For a moment, all she hears is the rustling leaves and the river. Kara’s hand is warm and soft and still dripping with river water, and Lena wishes it were hers to hold for as long as it took to dry, and for longer after that.

“Really,” Kara breathes.

“Really.”

Kara breathes out a laugh, and it almost sounds relieved. “Then I’ll see you soon.”

Smiling, Lena squeezes Kara’s hand softly, something fluttering inside of her when Kara squeezes back and strokes the back of her hand with her thumb before letting go. Lena watches her walk away, watches her turn around one last time when she reaches the trees, watches her smile. Then she watches her disappear, like all of this was just another daydream.

But it wasn’t. Lena lifts a hand to her face, touches it where Kara touched her, and sits down slowly. She closes her eyes, and sighs.

#listen if you read all of this know that i love u ok.#supergirl fic #supergirl #supercorp fic #supercorp #apollo x daphne AU #supercorp fanfic #kara x lena #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp au #my words #supergirl au #kara #lena #mine

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greenflower21 · 4 years ago

Text

“I Sleep and Dream of Snow” (orginally on my Ao3 profile) * Contains Spoilers for season 3 of “Attack on Titan”

The winter will be rough this year , thought Levi as he gazed out the foggy window onto the gray surroundings. The first snow was yet to come, but he doubted it would be far off. Wind was already screaming down from the mountains, sweeping across the sheltered valley where the small cabin nestled under the barren trees like skeletons in the mountain’s shadow. This was the same cabin where he had hidden with his new squad, a few months previously, before Queen Historia had claimed her throne, before they had regained honor for the scouts, and before retaking Shiganshina.

So much had happened, it was hard to believe only a few months encompassed the biggest changes to their world within the walls. A new Queen, a new squad, and now a new commander as well…

Levi’s eye twitched slightly as he thought of Erwin’s lifeless body, still in Shiganshina, blue eyes once so full of dreams, an icy fury that looked ever onwards, now just a memory. He shivered there before the window, the threat of winter already creeping into his bones.

“We can’t always carry our fallen comrades home, but we can carry their memories.”

The words he had spoken to a grieving soldier had echoed too many times in his head this past year. He was used to loss, but the words now sounded almost mocking, his memories laughing atop the mountain of bodies, lifeless eyes whose gleams were already fading from his mind. The cold ache had settled even deeper now, refusing to recede, winter’s cruel whisper brushing against the boundaries of his body and mind. He shivered again, whether from the cold or from the lingering echoes in his head, he couldn’t tell. The echo was turning into a headache now, dull pain behind his eyes making his limbs feel leaden and heavy, not helped by the bulky ODM gear that weighed him down under his cloak.

A shout from outside jolted him from his thoughts. He stepped away from the window calling out as he went, “Commander Hange is here! Get ready!”

A few shouts of “Yes sir!” echoed clumsily from upstairs.

Levi walked outside, his shoulders tensing uncomfortably when he was met with a chill wind. “Jean!” he called to the tall boy in the lookout tower, sandy-brown hair tousled by the wind. “Is it Commander Hange?”

“Yes Captain,” replied Jean. “They appear to be alone.”

Good, thought Levi. Good that no more than necessary see this. Too many soldiers and government officials resented Levi’s decision to save Armin instead of Erwin. Why was a timid boy’s life more valuable than their esteemed and experienced commander? And why had that pivotal decision been entrusted to an underground lowlife like Levi?

At first they had thought to keep the specifics of Shiganshina a secret from the populace, but that was impossible. That idiot Floch didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut. Levi was glad at least that he had stayed behind to recruit more MP’s into the scout’s ranks instead of coming here with the rest of Shiganshina’s heroes. Isolating as it was out here, he was glad not to hear the endless complaining, making his guilt over Erwin’s death all the more painful.

Not that it isn’t painful already, he admitted as Armin’s small figure came slowly outside, followed by Eren, Mikasa, Connie and Sasha. Armin’s blue eyes were watery in the chill wind, blue and full of hope, just as Erwin’s had been long ago.

“Hey Connie! It’s your watch now!” said Jean, hopping down from the tower, wrapping his cloak tighter around himself.

“Ugh, fine,” said Connie, walking over towards the wooden tower.

“No,” said Eren, “I’ll take watch, you can go with the others Connie.”

“Um...okay…” said Connie, confused.

Levi furrowed his brow as he watched Eren climb up into the watchtower. Why does he want to be on lookout duty so badly? Probably just sulking. Eren had been in a bad mood ever since the memorial ceremony. He was sullen and withdrawn around the others, even with Armin and Mikasa. Levi shuddered. It's probably nothing. Not everything is a threat, he’s a teenager, they’re like that most of the time.

“How far is Hange?” asked Levi as Jean sauntered up beside him.

“A couple miles,” he replied. “They should be here soon.” Jean lowered his voice to a whisper, glancing back at Eren, “what’s up with him?”

Levi frowned, still uneasy but apathetic. The last thing he needed was to fuel Jean and Eren’s rivalry. They were good friends but sometimes even the faintest animosity could become irritating to be around. I’m too tired to deal with their childish antics today.

Sure enough, Hange’s steed galloped down the narrow path and jolted to a halt.

“Levi!” they exclaimed excitedly. “It’s good to see you looking cheerful as always.” Their hair was messy from the wind, and they hastily brushed it away from their face where it had tangled in their glasses and knotted under their eyepatch..

Levi grunted in reply. “I see you came alone.”

Hange nodded. “Now, are we ready to start?”

They glanced over at Armin, whose blue eyes were wide and unblinking. He looked incredibly nervous. Levi couldn’t help but notice how he tried to hide his shaking hands under his cloak.

Eren on the other hand, was expressionless beside him, green eyes downcast. Mikasa eyed him worriedly, but he paid her no notice as he walked over to the watchtower.

“Let’s go then,” said Levi, leading them down toward the cliff face where they had tried this same experiment on Eren earlier that year.

Levi pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders, shivering still. Dark clouds were gathering at the top of the mountain. Levi narrowed his eyes concernedly, “Hange, I don’t like the look of those clouds.”

“Hmmm,” they said, narrowing their eyes. “We’ll have to hurry then.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t just wait?” Levi replied.

“If it snows we won’t be able to do this again for awhile, and I can’t be away for too long. Besides...” they added, their voice rising to the pitch that Levi recognized as a signal that a theory was forming in their mind.

“What?” he asked, not sure if he was going to regret it.

“I’m interested to see how cold weather will affect the transformation, and if it rains or snows or whatever it does, it might have an impact on the titan steam….” they trailed off, clearly mulling over possibilities in their mind.

Levi sighed and glanced back at the squad. Sasha, Connie and Jean were chatting distractedly in the rear, Mikasa walking solemnly in front of them, glancing occasionally through her shadowy curtain of hair, backward towards where Eren sulked in the watchtower. Armin looked even more terrified than he had before. His eyes darted back and forth cautiously, like blue rippled under a sudden wind.

Levi slowed a bit to allow the boy a chance to catch up with him.

“Sir,” he squeaked, startled to see Levi beside him, looking away quickly. He knew that Armin also carried the guilt of Erwin’s sacrifice. The fault was far from his though, but Levi could understand how apprehensive he probably was. He had a large legacy to carry on his shoulders, and nearly the whole army blaming him for it.

“Don’t worry Armin,” said Levi earnestly. “Hange knows what they’re doing, you’ll be fine.”

“Th-thank you sir,” stuttered Armin, “i-it’s not Hange I’m worried about sir, it’s…”

“You have a lot of expectations to live up to,” finished Levi.

Armin hung his head. “Y-yes sir.”

Levi sighed again. “At the end of the day, it was my decision to make. You’re young, you have a good head on your shoulders, give it a chance to dream. That was what Erwin did best…” Levi stopped, for he could see the cliff face looming up ahead.

“Here we are!” said Hange, running ahead to look down.

Armin gulped. Levi gave him a reassuring nod, and they followed Hange to the cliff edge.

“Positions everyone!” said Hange. They all obeyed, leaping to their vantage points on the clifftop.

“We have to hurry,” pointed out Levi, glancing up at the clouds uneasily.

Hange nodded. “Yes. Ok Armin, we’re ready when you are!”

Armin nodded, pale and shaky. He closed his eyes, and took a run towards the cliff edge. He jumped off the side, ODM gear on.

Levi braced himself. Did it work? He wondered as a few silent moments passed. But he quickly retracted that thought, because a loud bang resounded upwards with a steam blast.

“Hange!” He shouted. “Can you see anything?”

“No!” they replied, eyeing the steam dangerously, the thrill in their eyes unmistakeable.

“I can’t hear him!” shouted Jean.

“It’s only steam, no titan,” added Sasha.

“Armin!” shouted Connie, “Can you hear us?”

Levi could see Mikasa perched on the edge, looking as uneasy as Levi felt. She was doubtless wondering why Eren didn’t want to see his best friend transform into the colossal titan for the first time, but equally worried about Armin below.

A loud boom sounded behind them. Levi smelled rain as a cold blast of wind slammed into him, almost sending him off balance.

“Hange…!” he shouted, a tone of warning creeping into his voice.

“I hear it,” Hange replied. “Armin!” they screamed. “Armin where are you?”

There was no reply, only more thunder as the steam rose from the ground.

Levi felt a few drops of cold rain hit his face. Not quite cold enough for snow yet but it still stung like blades of ice.

“Armin!” cried Mikasa, craning her neck to see through the layers of steam. The rain was getting heavier, sizzling as it struck the ground below.

“There!” shouted Sasha. Levi looked where she pointed, seeing a patch of red where the rain was clearing the steam. He narrowed his eyes and squinted to see better.

“It’s too hot to cut him out,” said Hange, “We need to let the rain cool it down first.”

Damn this would have been a great moment for Eren to stop acting like a moody brat and come help us out.

Levi frowned. “Was this your plan all along?” he didn’t even try to hide the annoyance in his voice.

“...Not exactly, but it is working in our favor now,” they replied, watching the steam clear below, revealing more of a pitifully misshapen red titan, miniscule in size in comparison to the colossal titan that had broken down Wall Maria.

“Armin,” croaked Mikasa nervously, about to leap down. Levi placed an arm in front of her. “No. It’s not safe yet.”

She hung her head, resigning herself to the truth in his words.

“Look! Commander, Captain!” Connie shouted.

“It’s Armin! He’s emerging!” added Sasha.

“Right, I’m going to retrieve him,” said Levi. It was dangerously hot down there, only he had the necessary speed to grab the boy quickly and get him out.

“I’m coming too!” insisted Mikasa.

“Fine,” grumbled Levi. She can manage, and it might be helpful to have an extra set of hands if we have to cut him out.

“Be careful!” said Hange, absentminded, meaning that their thoughts were clicking mechanically in their brain.

Levi and Mikasa leaped down, weaving between bilows of steam carefully. He could see Armin’s yellow hair glinting dully in the red mist of steam and drizzle.

They landed on the body, where the rain had cooled the surface enough so that he could cut Armin out. Armin’s eyes stared blankly upwards, red marks beneath them, tears welling in those pools of blue.

“Help me cut him out, quickly!” said Levi.

Mikasa sawed at the sinews with her blades while Levi lifted Armin out from the steaming carcass. His cloak had completely burned off, leaving only his thin shirt, burned and tattered in several places. The ODM gear was still trapped inside the titan.

“It’ll be damaged beyond repair; leave it behind” said Levi, sensing Mikasa’s thoughts.

“Right,” she nodded and focused on cutting Armin’s legs free.

The rain was coming down hard now, icy cold and stinging as it danced violently in the wind.

Mikasa finished cutting the sinews, and they leaped upward against the cliff-face with their gear, Levi carrying Armin’s limp form under one arm. They made it to the top, where the others were waiting anxiously.

“Wh-what happened?” asked Sasha concernedly looking at Armin.

“We can theorise later, let’s focus on getting out of this rain!” said Levi, removing his own cloak to wrap around Armin.

Damn this rain is cold.

“Hange come on!” They were still staring over the cliff edge thoughtfully.

“What?” They said. “Oh, right, let’s go!”

They all walked quickly back to the house, Armin being carried by Levi as the rain grew icier around them.

Levi was thankful in that moment for the titan heat radiating from Armin’s body. His face and hands were numb from the cold, and his clothes were becoming soaked through.

They made it back to the house.

“Eren!” shouted Hange, “Get inside! You won’t be able to see in this weather anyway.”

Eren leaped down from the watchtower, still brooding. Seriously, what’s up with him?

They all stumbled inside, dripping wet, slamming the door behind them.

Sasha let out a long sigh, “I’m soooooo hungry!”

“Ugh I’m too cold to be hungry,” complained Jean.

Eren ignored them and went straight over to the hearth to start building a fire. He half glanced at Armin, a pained expression in his eyes, avoiding Mikasa’s stare that followed him like a shadow as he placed logs in the fire.

Levi placed Armin down into a seated position in one of the chairs by the fire, removing his cloak and hanging it by the door. Armin’s tattered clothing had luckily remained relatively dry under the protective wool.

As everyone else hung their cloaks, Levi noticed that they, too, had avoided most of the icy rain.

Hange shook their head, scattering a few droplets and walked straight over to Armin.

I need to get out of these wet clothes, thought Levi. He shivered, his shirt stuck tight against his body, hair dripping icy water into his eyes.

“Captain you’re soaked!” exclaimed Sasha as she carried the kettle to the stove.

“Hmph, I hadn’t noticed,” he grumbled dryly.

“Someone needs to get some dry clothes for Armin,” said Hange.

“On it!” said Connie, sprinting away.

Levi stood, almost dazed, looking at how Eren was building up the fire. Something was definitely off with him, and he worried that it was something more than just teenage angst.

“Uh, Captain, are you ok?” asked Jean’s voice behind him.

“Hmmm…?” Levi blinked. “Yeah I’m fine…” his words were slow; numb along with everything else.

“You really should take those wet clothes off captain,” said Mikasa, arriving beside him carrying some blankets from upstairs.

“Hmmm, yeah…” he shook his head hazily and walked slowly towards his room.

His hands were stiff as he undid the buttons and endless belt loops that attached the ODM gear to his body. When that weight left him, he swayed slightly, dizzy with the release. He finally managed to remove the rest of his soaking wet clothes, which had stuck to his skin like ice, wondering if he would ever feel warm again.

He came back to the main room, wearing dry clothes, but still shivering. Sasha, Connie and Jean were laying out teacups and bread and butter on the table. Eren still stared moodily into the fire, ignoring the rest of them, while Mikasa sat next to Armin, wrapping him in a blanket and Hange scribbled in their notebook.

Mikasa stood and walked over to Levi. She handed him a blanket and he took it from her gratefully, hands numb and shaking. Not caring about anything else in that moment except warmth, he sat down in the chair between Armin and Hange, close to the fire.

Armin didn’t appear hurt, but there was a look of utter dejection on his face.

“It’s ok Armin, Eren had trouble his first time too! “ reassured Mikasa. “Right Eren?”

Eren turned at his name. “What? Oh yeah…” he quickly turned back around to stare at the flames.

Hange sighed quizzically, looking up from their notes. “It seems that mood clearly plays a role in one’s ability to transform. Eren always had trouble if he was feeling nervous or apprehensive, or unsure about something.” Hange directed their statements at Eren, but he didn’t look back in their direction.

“You’d better figure it out soon kid so we can get the hell out of this freezing cold bunker,” said Levi shakily, then he sneezed, quiet enough so that only Hange heard it. They narrowed their eyes at Levi skeptically but didn’t say anything.

“You have to be sure of yourself Armin. You have to envision the future you dream of, and you have to take hold of it with all your strength. If you hesitate, it’s all for nothing.” Eren’s voice sounded far away, even though he only stood a few feet away from Levi. It was the most he had heard the boy say for weeks.

“Well, yes…” said Hange, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “In less solemn terms than Eren just put it, you need to have a clear goal, and you need confidence!”

I know what’s wrong, thought Levi. It’s Erwin’s shadow. It’s still too tall for him to reach. That same tall, blue-eyed shadow echoed in Levi’s mind too. He knew what it felt like to be tasked with making someone’s life meaningful after they were gone.

Armin only sighed and shook his head. “I know, you’re trying to help and I appreciate it, I really do, but… I can’t help but wonder every day if you made the wrong decision Captain.”

Armin’s sad blue stare rose to meet Levi’s cold gray eyes. For a second, he thought he could see Erwin’s icy gaze, filled with stone cold-determination, but then the shadow faded to leave behind ripples in the terrified boy’s face.

“I didn’t make the wrong decision,” said Levi, trying to make his voice sound certain. “This is what Erwin would have wanted.” As he said this, he could almost see Erwin’s shadow again, nodding to his words behind Armin’s face.

Levi shivered and sneezed again, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself, feeling suddenly very tired. The feeling had started to sneak back into his limbs again, but now they were heavy with a dull ache that was settling deep into his whole body.

“Tea’s ready!” said Sasha.

Levi sighed and stood shakily to walk back over to the table, leaving the blanket behind. He poured himself a cup and sat down, still shivering. He held the cup in his hands, letting the warmth spread upward through his fingertips.

He was almost aware of the others clattering about chatting and eating all around him, but they were like shadows in the corner of his vision. I’m still so cold. Why can’t I get warm?

Hands shaking, Levi lifted the cup to his mouth, letting the hot liquid warm his insides. Someone pushed a plate towards him. He glanced over to see that it was Hange.

“You should eat,” they said, buttering a piece of bread for themself and sitting down beside him.

Levi ignored the bread and focused instead on drinking the tea in slow sips, willing it to make him stop shivering so visibly.

“The rain is turning into sleet,” observed Sasha, looking toward the window.

Levi looked and saw sheets of white slamming against the glass.

“Looks like you’ll need to stay the night here commander,” said Connie.

“Yes I suppose you’re right,” replied Hange. “I really did underestimate this weather didn’t I?”

Within the hour, the sleet had turned into snow, and it rattled relentlessly against the window panes.

Leaving his bread untouched, Levi washed his teacup and then wandered back over to the fire. Armin had fallen asleep, the red titan marks on his face already starting to fade.

“We should put him in bed,” said Levi, bending down to pick him up. His arms felt unusually weak though, which was strange. Why do my bones feel like they’re filled with ice. I hate rain...I’m too stiff to lift even this scrawny teenager!

“I can do it,” said Eren’s voice behind him.

“Go ahead,” said Levi, glancing at him sideways. Eren lifted one of Armin’s arms over his shoulder, and Mikasa rushed over to help. Together they carried their friend up to bed.

Levi sighed and edged closer to the fire. I hope I’m not this stiff tomorrow, there’s so much to do around here…

“You alright?” Asked Hange, kneeling down next to him. “You seem tired.”

He shivered again, picking up his discarded blanket from earlier. He avoided their question and said, “where will you sleep? With the rate of that snow outside, it looks like you might be stuck here for a few days at least.”

“Don’t worry about me! I always figure it out,” they replied. “Besides, I want to stay up a bit later to study my notes anyway.”

Levi nodded in reply and glanced over to the table where Jean, Connie and Sasha were still chatting. “Hey, make sure you clean up that mess when you’re done,” he remarked. Normally he would stay and do it himself, but Hange might have been right. He was tired. Even where he stood, he struggled to keep his eyes open. He would have to trust them to clean it properly, just this once…

“Captain can I have your bread?” Asked Sasha.

“Hmmm…? Yeah, fine…” he muttered, walking blearily towards his room. He sank onto his bed with a strange heaviness, shivering under the blankets, and let sleep take him.

When he was gone, Sasha exclaimed in a shocked whisper, “what? He never says yes! This is my lucky day!”

“Sasha you’re getting crumbs everywhere. We need to keep it clean or the Captain will freak out!” protested Jean.

Connie chimed in with, “Hey! Won’t you share?”

When the two had divided the bread between them, Jean remarked, “don’t you think it's weird though, Captain Levi never goes to bed early?”

Sasha was too immersed in her bread to hear him.

Connie shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s been a pretty long day, I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Jean frowned, looking out the window where the show was swirling out in the dark. “I hope you’re right.”

***

Levi woke groggily. His throat burned and there was a heavy weight in his chest that made every part of his body ache. He groaned and got out of bed, shocked when he had to sit down again because a wave of dizziness almost sent him reeling.

He sighed, and that sigh turned into a dry cough that made his head throb.

Damn it, he cursed to himself. He made the decision to ignore his body screaming in protest, and put a clean shirt on with aggressive determination, preparing to go downstairs. This is nothing, I’m just chilled from yesterday, I just need to wake up a bit. He coughed again as he went carefully down the stairs.

Hange had woken up sitting stiffly in the chair by the fire, notes open across their lap. The coals had died down to ash. Someone had thrown a blanket across them at some point, they weren’t sure who. They yawned, stretched, and stood, looking out the window.

Well, looks like I won’t be making it back to HQ anytime soon. Snow was piled almost up to the window panes, the inside of the glass covered with frost. They shuddered and put a log on the dead fire, attempting to blow some life into it.

The kitchen had been tidied from the night before, but it was nowhere near spotless. A few crumbs still littered the floor where Connie and Sasha had battled over the captain’s bread.

He won’t be happy.

While they waited for the fire to grow, they pondered their notes again. Something was definitely holding Armin back...they had a feeling it was the pressure. The poor boy had Erwin’s whole legacy to uphold. Damn it Levi, I can’t believe you put him in this position.

Hange heard light footfalls on the steps accompanied by ragged breathing that stopped suddenly and was replaced by a rough, hollow sounding cough.

That doesn’t sound good…

“Where is everyone?” asked Levi hoarsely as he slowly walked into the room. “Lazy kids, just because it’s snowing doesn’t mean they get a break.” He looked out the window, noticing the empty watchtower blurred by the blinding light of the heavy snow on the ground. “We should get someone on lookout duty-” he ended the thought abruptly as he shook with coughing again.

Ignoring Hange’s eyebrows rising in concern, he went outside to fill the kettle with snow, shocked when he opened the door to see that it came all the way up to his shoulders. He cursed under his breath and shivered, filling it quickly and slamming the door shut. He put the kettle on the stove, his chest burning, unable to stifle the shaky cough that shuddered through his body again.

“Levi, I don’t like the sound of that cough,” said Hange, not hiding the concern in their voice.

“It's nothing,” he retorted. His eyes stopped, noticing a few crumbs on the floor where the scouts had been sitting the night before. Damn it, I thought I told them to clean up… He sighed in annoyance, but it came out as a cough, more painful than the last one.

“Levi….” began Hange. “Don’t worry about the crumbs, and don’t worry about the lookout! The snow will be too thick to see anyway. Besides, no one will be out stalking us in this weather.” They took a moment to look at his face, which was shadowed by the usual dark circles, but they were deeper today, and he was pale, his dark gray eyes glassy and distant.

He ignored them and went over to get the broom in the corner. He swept the crumbs away and started to make tea.

Hange shook their head. He was too stubborn. When the kettle boiled, they sat down together to let it brew.

“Are they seriously all still asleep?” Levi asked, shocked at how raspy his voice sounded. He was grateful for the warmth of the cup in his hands. He let the steam float up to his face and briefly relieve the throbbing in his head.

Hange shrugged, “Not everyone is an insomniac like you.”

He glared at them and shook his head. “Any epiphanies in your late night research?”

They took a deep breath. “Armin won’t be able to control his titan ability until he can escape the pressure of Erwin’s sacrifice.”

Levi nodded, “well he’d better figure it out soon-” he broke off, coughing again.

Hange opened their mouth to say something, but at that moment Mikasa came downstairs, followed by the others.

“Armin is still asleep,” she said as she sat down beside Hange.

“How is he?” Hange asked.

“He seems fine,” Mikasa continued, “the titan marks have faded at least.”

“Good, good…” Hange nodded, pouring themself another cup of tea.

Levi shot Sasha, Connie and Jean a subtle glare as they sat down at the table. “I thought I told you to clean up after-” but he broke off again, another rattling cough shaking his chest.

“I’m so sorry captain!” said Sasha, eyes wide.

“Wait, uh Captain Levi are you ok?” Asked Connie tentatively.

He was barely aware of their responses, and he didn’t catch the worried glances that shot between everyone seated at the table. He ignored them and sipped his tea in frustration, willing his hands to stop shaking, hoping that the warm liquid would subside the deep chill that was making his whole body ache.

He started feeling progressively worse throughout the day. He tried to keep himself busy, ignoring the pain in his head by sweeping the rest of the floor, assigning odd tasks to the scouts, and pointedly ignoring the way they were all looking at him.

Jean, Eren and Mikasa managed to clear a way to the stable to check on the horses. Hange decided that they didn’t need to bother with clearing a way to the watchtower. No one would be able to find them in this snow anyway. Levi narrowed his eyes uneasily, but Hange out-ranked him, so their word was what the scouts followed. He knew they were probably right. It was too cold out to keep watch safely, and there was no point staring at gray fields of snow for hours with no real threat.

He glanced out the window, half expecting more snow to start falling from the gray skies. He still remembered the first time he had seen snow. Mesmerized and terrified at those sparkling white drops that froze on impact, and looked like stars turned to dust. Farlan and Isabel never got to see snow. It almost seemed like the gray sky itself was scattering cold ash for all those who had never gotten to gaze at its beauty.

While the others cleared the snow in front of the door, Sasha and Connie chopped vegetables for soup, and Armin slept for most of the day. Hange tried to be useful around the house, hoping that everyone at HQ wasn’t too worried about them. There was no helping it though. It was hard enough to clear a path to the horses, forget trying to clear it all the way to the road. Hange was starting to get worried though, worried about Levi.

His cough started sounding worse as the day went on. At one point, Hange caught him staring out the window, shivering and gazing at something in a distant corner of his mind that only he could see.

“Levi,” they said gently, “come away from there, it's too cold!”

He didn’t respond, so they placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched slightly, but didn’t protest when they guided him over to sit by the fire.

It should have warmed him, but he still shivered weakly, spots dancing before his eyes, almost like it was snowing inside the fire.

He was aware of Hange looking into his eyes, “Levi…” they said quietly, placing a hand on his forehead.

He started to brush them away, “what are you doing?”

“You’re burning up!” exclaimed Hange.

He sighed again, he hated other people fussing over him, but regretted it instantly because it sent him into another painful coughing fit.

“Levi, I’m worried about you,” said Hange, “you’re not well!”

Levi knew they were probably right, he wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball in front of the fire and stay there forever, but he couldn’t possibly go rest; there was still too much to do, too much to think about, Erwin’s shadow was watching him, he needed to do it justice…

Erwin’s shadow walked down the stairs, but it was much smaller than Erwin. “Er, hello Commander, Captain,” he said.

Hange stood, “ah, our colossal awakens!”

Levi was puzzled. Erwin was tall, yes, but he was no titan, what was Hange talking about.

Hange noticed that Armin looked bleary-eyed from sleep, but otherwise fine. They were worried about Levi though. He looked at Armin with a pained, almost confused expression. He’s delirious…

“I’m so sorry,” said the small boy standing there with Erwin’s eyes. Yes, not Erwin, Erwin is dead Levi, get it together.

Levi opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t because his whole body was racked by shaking as he coughed again.

“Captain! Are you alright?” gasped Armin.

“He’s not,” said Hange. “Levi, I need you to go back to bed, and yes, that’s an order!”

Levi regarded them with dark gray eyes, misted over with a feverish glow. Too weak to protest, he stood up shakily and began to walk toward the stairs. Why is Hange giving me orders, he thought, confused, Where’s Erwin? He stumbled and swayed where he stood. The whole room spun, and lights danced in his eyes, turning into shadows as he fell.

Armin and Hange reacted quickly. They caught him as he collapsed so he didn’t hit the floor.

“What happened to him?” Asked Armin, his voice high pitched with concern.

“What’s going on?” asked Sasha, peeking in from the kitchen, Connie close behind. They must have heard the commotion and come to investigate.

“I need you to bring me some cold water and a clean cloth,” said Hange.

Sasha’s eyes widened as she saw the unconscious Levi in between Armin and Hange’s arms. “Yes sir!” she disappeared into the kitchen to do what Hange asked.

“Connie, can you help me bring him upstairs?” said Hange.

“Yes sir,” said Connie, running over to take the captain’s limp form from Armin, who sighed with relief. He still hadn’t quite gotten his strength back from yesterday. “Armin, can you go check on our soup?” Armin nodded and wandered into the kitchen, glancing over his shoulder as he watched Connie and Hange carry Levi’s unconscious body between them up the stairs.

They placed him down on his bed. His eyelids fluttered slightly but he didn’t wake up. He was shivering weakly, but a thin gray sweat was coating the surface of his skin, sticking his dark hair to his head.

Sasha came back with cold water and a few dry kitchen towels. Hange took one from her and dipped in the basin, placing the cool cloth on Levi’s pale forehead.

Sasha and Connie lingered uncomfortably in the doorway, watching as Hange unbuttoned Levi’s shirt, which was plastered to his body with sweat.

“Is he going to be ok?” Asked Connie in a whisper.

No one answered him.

“Do you need anything else?” asked Sasha, breaking the tense silence except for Levi’s ragged breathing.

“No,” replied Hange, “just let the others know where I am, and keep that fire burning.”

They nodded and went back to the kitchen, leaving Hange alone sitting on the edge of the bed, looking more worried than the scouts had ever seen them.

They found Armin standing dazed before the pot on the stove, stirring mechanically, unfocused and clearly worried.

“This is my fault,” he whimpered. He looked up at Sasha and Connie, alarm in his eyes. “He gave me his cloak yesterday, and he must have gotten too cold, and now…” he looked like he might cry.

“No, Armin, it’s not your fault!” said Connie reassuringly. “He would have done the same for any of us, you had no idea that your cloak would burn off, or that the rain would be that cold!”

“But the experiment failed…. I failed! I’ll never live up to Erwin’s expectations.” Armin sank down in a chair at the table, utterly defeated.

“You need to stop blaming yourself Armin,” said Sasha, taking over at the stove-top, pouring a handful of herbs into the broth. “The decision was never yours, and you’re trying your best!”

“You just need to get used to it,” added Connie. “You’re only human so don’t beat yourself up!”

Armin sighed, looking toward the stairs with an expression of anguish. I really hope they’re right.

“I’ve had enough snow to last a lifetime,” complained Jean, entering the door, and hanging up his cloak, followed by Mikasa and Eren.

“At least we’ve cleared a path to the stable now,” said Mikasa.

“It only took us three hours,” grumbled Eren.

Jean sighed and sat down at the table. “What’s with you guys? You look like someone just died.”

Armin looked at the floor and Sasha stirred the pot on the stove awkwardly.

“Well…” said Connie, “It’s Captain Levi, he’s really unwell.”

Mikasa’s eyes widened in alarm. “Is he alright?”

“I thought he didn’t look too good this morning…” added Jean.

“What happened?” asked Eren.

“I guess…” said Armin, “the cold yesterday must have gotten to him, he just collapsed right in front of us!”

Seeing Armin’s worried expression, Mikasa said, “He’s humanity’s strongest. He just needs to rest for a few days, he’ll be fine.”

Her tone didn’t sound convincing enough though, and the room fell into a tense silence, the only sound Sasha’s wooden spoon scraping the bottom of the pot.

***

A few minutes after Sasha and Connie left, Levi’s eyes fluttered open weakly and he stared up at Hange, looking very confused. He tried to sit up, but he was seized by another painful coughing fit and was forced to sink back down onto the pillows, shaking.

“Shhh,” said Hange, pushing him down and drawing the blanket up to cover him.

“Hange what happened?” he asked weakly, his voice hoarse and strained.

“You fainted,” they replied, readjusting the cloth on his forehead. “Connie helped me carry you in here.”

He coughed again.“Damn it, how did this happen, I can’t-” but he couldn’t finish, his chest shaking with echoing tremors. He moaned softly and closed his eyes.

“Just rest,” said Hange. “You don’t have to worry about anything.” His eyelids flickered and closed as he settled into an uneasy sleep, wheezing gently and still shaking.

They watched his chest rise and fall for a few minutes, then replaced the cloth on his forehead, already lukewarm with the heat from his fever. When they were sure he was really sleeping, they quietly closed the door and went back downstairs.

***

Levi slept fitfully the rest of that day, and all the while, the snow still fell outside. Hange went back to check on him a few hours later, but he was still deep in a feverish dream, shivering beneath the blankets, chest rising raggedly and hair plastered to his head in lank strands.

Hange felt his forehead again. The fever was still high, possibly even higher than before. This worried them; they had never seen him this sick in all the years they had known him. They were trained as a field medic, first aid and emergency battle operations etc., but they were certainly no doctor. If this didn’t get any better soon….well, they just had to hope it would. Travelling would be impossible for at least the next few days.

For now, they kept the fever controlled by replacing the cloth on his forehead intermittently.

A soft knock on the door sounded and Mikasa entered the room, carrying a steaming cup of tea. “How is he?” she asked, setting it down on the table.

Hange’s brow furrowed. “Fever is still high and he’s struggling to breathe.” they watched the erratic rise and fall of his chest uneasily.

“Maybe steam will help,” said Mikasa, bringing the teacup close to Levi’s face.

“Good idea!” Hange observed, lifting his head slightly so he could inhale it.

He spluttered and coughed, then gasped weakly, but it did seem to give him some temporary relief.

“We need more steam,” said Hange.

“On it!” said Mikasa, turning to leave.

A few minutes later, she returned with the kettle and an empty washbasin.

They lifted Levi’s head again and held the steaming water up to his face. He gasped, then breathed in and out, coughing. He leaned back on the pillows, still shaking, but he breathed more easily, at least for a little while.

***

Levi dreamed of blue eyes following him. “Erwin, what do you still need from me?” But the blue receded into gray, drowning in snow.

“Wait!” cried Levi, “Where are you going?” but the blue eyes disappeared, and he heard nothing but his own voice, reverberating back at him.

He wandered in a directionless fog, steps heavy, his body aching with weariness as he trudged onward.

A roar resounded behind him and he flinched as something flew through the air. It landed at his feet in the mist and he almost screamed. Lifeless eyes underneath tousled red hair stared back at him. Isabel….

A familiar laugh echoed nearby. Farlan? He turned around, but the laugh faded and turned into a scream before disappearing into the fog completely.

He sank to his knees, utterly defeated. He could hear voices calling out his name, and they all flashed before his eyes.

He saw Gunther dangling from his mangled gear, half of Eld’s body strewn across the forest floor, Oluo’s head sawn off, and Petra... Oh Petra.

She called to him, but he couldn’t stand. His legs wouldn’t lift from the damp ground, and the mist suffocated him, drowning their voices until they disappeared. He was sinking into the ground, and then he fell, plummeting downward through tunnels of darkness until he landed with a thud in a dirty puddle, no stars here; it reeked of the underground.

A tall man with a face shielded by a black hat turned to look at Levi, lying in the muck, but he shook his head and walked away, until Levi could see him no more.

The puddle enveloped him like a blanket, and there was a woman in a white dress standing over him. Her black hair flowed down her back like rainfall on a window on a moonless night, and her cold gray eyes looked down on him lovingly. She brushed lank hair out of his face with pale fingers.

“Mother?” he croaked.

“Shhhh Levi, you’re safe now.” her voice was soothing, and he believed her, he let his eyes close, and darkness settled over him.

He wanted to stay there forever, but voices started to plague him again.

“Let me rest, please,” he begged.

“Levi. You must not regret your decision,” and there were blue eyes looking at him from the shadows again.

“Erwin…” he whispered.

“Do not regret. Fulfil your promise.”

“I’m so tired Erwin…” Levi protested. He wished that the blue eyes would close and leave him be. The woman in the white dress was still there, but she too, was fading, her hands translucent and eyes empty.

“No, don’t go!” he begged.

She grasped his hand one more time, and then disappeared into the shadows.

“Remember your promise,” said Erwin, but it wasn’t Erwin’s voice. Armin Arlert looked at him with sincerity in the mist, “Please stay with us Captain!”

“Please…” but he wasn’t sure whose voice it was pleading with him now.

“I promised…. I remember….” whispered Levi, and then he sank into shadows, many voices still echoing in their tendrils of mist around him, utterly incomprehensible.

***

The snow stopped falling after two days, but it showed no sign of melting. The scouts were trapped here until they could find a way to clear a path to the road, which was still several miles to the west of their isolated location.

Hange was getting increasingly more worried about Levi. He had been drifting in and out of consciousness, and the fever, like the snow, showed no signs of abating. Mikasa had been clever with the steam; when his breathing became too laboured, they brought a basin of boiling water to his face, and it seemed to instill a temporary respite to his pained struggle.

But he also wasn’t getting any better. Hange worried that he would need stronger medicine than whatever meager supplies they had here at the cabin; honey and hot water could only do so much. But in this snow, it would be impossible to go in search of anything.

Hange cooled Levi’s burning forehead with the wet cloth, listening to the erratic rise and fall of his chest with concern.

“You should get some rest,” said Armin, entering the room softly behind them. “I can stay with him for awhile.”

Hange nodded, knowing he was right. They didn’t like the thought of leaving him, but they felt their eyelids drooping heavily. They stood and stretched, then went to the bed they had set up down the hall. “Wake me if there’s any change.”

When Hange left, Armin sat down by the Captain’s side. His face was pale, his cheeks hollow and his dark hair dull and plastered to his face by sweat. A few incomprehensible words danced on his parched lips.

Armin felt an overwhelming sense of guilt as he looked at his sick captain. This is my fault. If only I had been able to transform properly, he wouldn’t have needed to give me his cloak. Better still, if I had died instead of Erwin. Erwin was a colossal human, even without the titan ability. I am nothing…

“No… don’t go…” whispered Levi feverishly in his sleep.

Armin inhaled sharply. “I’m right here Captain!”

“Erwin… no… let me rest, please…” his face twisted with grief and anguish, “can I go? The promise… I can’t…”

Armin’s eyes widened in alarm. He grasped Levi’s frail, sweaty hand in his own. “Please, stay with us captain, please!” begged Armin. He wrung out the cloth and dampened it again in the cold water, placing it on Levi’s burning forehead.

“I promised… I remember…” whispered Levi, coughing weakly in his sleep.

Armin heard the door open gently behind him as someone else walked into the room. He turned around, surprised to see that it was Eren.

“How is he?” he asked, still hovering in the doorway.

“Not good,” Armin shook his head.

Eren looked down at the ground and slowly walked over to lean on the edge of the table by the bed.

“Eren,” began Armin in a quiet voice. “Why couldn’t I transform?” A faint tremor of despair had crept up into his gentle tone.

Eren shook his head uneasily. He knew Armin would ask him this question. It was part of the reason why he had been avoiding the others this whole time. The strange sensation he had felt when he touched Queen Historia’s hand- well, he couldn’t shake the heavy weight of this immense secret he carried. He couldn’t shake the guilt, for being partially responsible for Commander Erwin’s death, and the legacy that Armin now had to fulfil. All he had wanted was to see the ocean, but this? I can see how tormented he is, the amount of anguish this is causing him, and it’s all my fault.

Eren hadn’t wanted to watch the experiment. He didn’t want to watch his friend suffer like that, a suffering that he knew all too well.

When Eren didn’t answer Armin’s feeble question, he sighed in resignation and looked away. It seemed even his best friend had lost faith in him.

The two boys were so wrapped up in their own thoughts that they nearly didn’t notice how quiet Levi had become

Eren noticed first. “Wait, Armin, something’s wrong.”

Armin shot up in alarm. Levi’s chest had stopped rising and falling, and the familiar pained breaths were silent.

“Captain Levi!” shouted Armin, shaking the captain’s frail body.

“I’ll get Hange!” said Eren, running out the door.

“Please hurry!” said Armin.

Armin lifted Levi, rubbing between his shoulder-blades vigorously. His skin was still emanating dangerous amounts of heat, which in this moment was actually a good thing, because it meant his body was still trying to fight, trying to live…

“Please Captain Levi,” begged Armin as he rubbed up and down, willing the breath to come back into his lungs.

The door banged open and Hange sprinted over to the bed. “Good Armin, keep rubbing. Levi!” they cried urgently, placing two fingers on Levi’s neck, where a very weak pulse was thankfully still fluttering. His lips were starting to turn blue.

Eren came into the room, carrying a steaming kettle. He poured it into the basin and handed it to Hange, who lifted it in front of Levi’s face.

Armin could feel the heartbeat weakening under his fingers, almost to nothing. A few tense moments followed, and then they all nearly jumped up in alarm as Levi gasped and coughed. He struggled for breath as his whole frame shook, but Armin lowered his shoulders with relief. That was close, too close.

Hange shook their head solemnly, reapplying the cold cloth to Levi’s forehead. “He’s not getting any better and there’s not much I can do for him without some stronger medicine.”

“But we’re trapped here…” said Eren.

Hange furrowed their brow quizzically. “Your father was a doctor wasn’t he Eren? Do you have any idea what he would have used to treat something like this?”

Eren thought for a moment and shook his head. “My father didn’t tell me much about what he did-he made all his medicines down in the cellar, where I wasn’t allowed. I think he planned to teach me one day, but he never got a chance…”

Think! Armin, Think, he begged himself. You can’t let the captain die. If he dies it's your fault. There has to be a way we can clear that snow and find him some medicine…?

He stood up suddenly, an idea forming in his mind.

“What is it?” Asked Eren.

“That’s the face of someone who’s just come up with a hypothesis,” remarked Hange observantly.

“We need a way to clear the snow so we can somehow get to a doctor or an apothecary…” began Armin, “and we know that titan steam can melt it, so what if I transform into a titan, clear the way enough for someone to make it to the main road, and from there ride to the nearest town where there’s bound to be someone that has what we need!”

“A brilliant idea Armin!” replied Hange excitedly, “But can you do it?”

“There’s also the risk that someone could see us, we don’t want to alarm civilians,” pointed out Eren,

Armin added, “that’s why it would be better to just get the medicine directly from them rather than bridging a doctor here- we don’t want too many people asking how on earth we cleared the snow away- you know what he needs right Hange?”

“More or less,” Hange agreed.

Armin continued, addressing Eren. “You and Mikasa will spot me as I transform, and cut me out and bring me back here while someone-probably Sasha because she knows the terrain around here the best- rides on.”

“But what if it’s too hot to get close?” wondered Eren.

“Then you can transform too, and take me down.”

Eren sighed, looking slightly uncomfortable, but then he nodded. “Okay.”

“Hmmm,” said Hange, “It’s risky, but…” they looked gravely at Levi’s shuddering form beside them, “I don’t think we have a choice.”

Eren stayed with Levi while Armin and Hange went downstairs to brief the others. The plan was this: Armin would transform and clear away the snow, and Mikasa and Eren would follow at a safe distance to retrieve Armin when he had finished.

Sasha and Connie would ride to the nearest village with a note carrying written instructions from Hange, to be shown to the closest doctor they could find. Trost would be ideal, but it was too far to ride quickly on the icy roads. Hange would have gone themself, but they didn’t dare leave Levi’s side now.

Jean sat with Levi while Hange went to the roof with Armin, Mikasa and Eren to execute the plan.

Armin didn’t feel nervous for once. He was ready to repay Captain Levi for saving his life back in Shiganshina. He would make them all proud. He would honor Erwin’s memory.

“Are you ready?” asked Hange.

Armin nodded.

“Remember to jump outwards so that the house doesn’t catch on fire,” they reminded him.

Right, don’t screw this up.

He took a deep breath, and leapt off the roof, slitting his palm with a knife. Electricity rippled through his body, and suddenly he was very tall. He looked down and could see snow down below, melting at his feet.

“Armin!” someone shouted. “Get away from the house!”

Dazed, he turned around, seeing Hange, Eren and Mikasa standing on top of the roof, edging away nervously.

What am I doing? Confusion clouded his mind. It's so hot in here…

“Armin! Go! You have to save Captain Levi!” shouted Connie from the stable. Armin looked down at Connie and Sasha, edging cautiously backwards, horses stamping impatiently. That’s right, I need to clear the way so they can go and find medicine for the Captain.

Armin shook away the fog and stepped forward, surprised at the heavy thud his feet made when they hit the ground, snow sizzling upon impact. I have to save Captain Levi. That thought propelled him forward as he plowed through the deep snow, the path clearing as he went.

“Good, it’s working!” Called Hange. “Sasha, Connie! Make sure you wait until we retrieve Armin before you ride!”

“Yes Commander!” shouted Sasha.

“Eren, Mikasa, now it’s your turn!” said Hange, turning to the two scouts beside them on the rooftop.

“On it!” Said Eren, breaking into a run and biting his hand as he jumped off the roof.

As he transformed down below, Mikasa leapt onto his shoulder with her ODM gear engaged.

Mikasa observed Armin’s colossal making its way through the trees. It was still much smaller than Berthold’s titan, smaller even than Eren as he pounded through the melted snow after him. Despite its size though, it was accomplishing what it meant to.

They followed at a safe distance for about ten minutes. Please let no one be on the road, thought Mikasa, anxiety thrumming in her chest. This was not a sight that she wanted just anyone to see.

“Eren, we’re getting close,” warned Mikasa.

Eren grunted in reply, and he sped up behind Armin.

Armin seemed to be aware of his surroundings, because Mikasa heard a loud crash up ahead as the colossal titan sank to its knees.

Mikasa sprinted off of Eren’s shoulder and zoomed ahead to scout out the road. Armin’s titan body had collapsed, steaming in the snow, and the road, still snowy but clear enough to ride stretched south toward Trost. No one else was in sight, so Mikasa breathed a sigh of relief as she assessed whether or not it was safe enough yet to retrieve Armin from the carcass.

The steam was too thick for her to see anything though. “Eren!” she shouted. “I need your help!”

Eren rumbled towards them and reached his hand into the steaming body, pulling Armin out, cradling his in the giant hand. The body immediately disintegrated, leaving more steam behind.

“Quick!” said Mikasa. “We need to get out of sight before anyone sees us!”

She leapt onto Eren’s shoulder and they sprinted back to the house, Armin lying unconscious in Eren’s arms.

When Hange saw them returning, they called down to Sasha and Connie. “Go! Hurry and come back as soon as you can!”

“Yes Commander!” They both shouted in unison, and galloped away down the path that Armin had cleared.

Mikasa leapt onto the ground, and Eren gently placed Armin down. Hange joined her and they carried him between them inside to give Eren enough space to transform back again. Mikasa was about to go back outside and help Eren in, but he stumbled in on his own, and immediately collapsed into a chair by the fire.

Armin’s eyes fluttered open where he sat in the other chair where Hange and Mikasa had set him down.

“Did I do it?” he asked feebly.

Hange knelt down in front of him. “Yes! You’re a hero Armin! Erwin would be proud.”

At this Armin could no longer control himself; he shuddered and tears fell from his eyes.

“Armin,” began Eren.

“No, I’m okay,” he stuttered. “I’m just so relieved!” He glanced at the staircase. “I just hope we’re not too late…”

Hange and Mikasa shooed Eren and Armin to bed to rest, and then Hange went to relieve Jean.

“You look like you could use some rest too,” said Mikasa, noticing the lines of exhaustion tracing Hange’s good eye.

Hange shook their head stubbornly. “No, I’ll stay with Levi until Sasha and Connie come back.”

Mikasa didn’t argue.

***

Jean and Mikasa tried to keep themselves busy, taking turns on lookout duty. Mikasa couldn't focus though, no matter what mindless task around the house she assigned herself. Levi would almost be proud at how tidy the place looked. Too restless to think anymore, she filled two teacups and went out to sit with Jean in the watchtower. She climbed up and sat beside him in the cold as they both stared out over the muddy, mangled path that Armin had plowed through what had been deep snow earlier that morning.

“Thanks,” muttered Jean, taking the cup gratefully from her in his shivering hands.

They sipped their tea, eyes fixed on the horizon for any sign of Sasha or Connie coming back, tension in the air as the time trickled by slowly.

“It’s weird seeing the captain this vulnerable,” said Jean absentmindedly. “He’s humanity’s strongest soldier you know? Something about seeing him like this just feels...wrong.”

Mikasa only nodded in reply. He spoke exactly what she felt.

“What will we do if he dies?” Continued Jean. “I mean, we need him. He can’t die!” she could hear the panic creeping into his voice.

Mikasa had no answer for that. She said instead. “I can take over lookout duty for now, you should go inside and get warm.”

He nodded grimly, “Maybe I can finally convince Hange to take a break.” He left, taking his empty teacup with him and leaving Mikasa alone in the tower. She stared into the gray abyss of broken trees, trying not to imagine the worst.

***

Hange was exhausted, but they refused to give in to sleep. Levi needed them now more than ever. The fever refused to drop and his breathing became weaker and weaker as the minutes ticked by.

“You can’t leave me Levi,” they whispered, grabbing his pale hand. “These kids need you, the world needs you, I need you. ”

They bent their head down and didn’t try to stop the subtle tears that fell from their eyes. Levi shivered weakly in his sleep. Hange moved their hand up to his chest, so they could feel the fluttering of his heartbeat under their touch. It was so weak, like a baby bird, so they cradled it there, willing it to stay and learn to fly.

***

There was a small bird chirping in the mist. Levi followed the sound of its voice and saw it on the damp ground, wings too small and weak to fly, crying out in a terrified high-pitched chirp.

He sank to his knees beside it. Isabel would have tried to save you… but it seems all I can do is die with you...

He lay down on the cold ground, letting the mist cover him.

He heard someone calling his name.

No...be quiet. I’m tired, just let me sleep please…

He closed his eyes and saw many faces beckoning to him. They were speaking but he couldn’t hear them. Isabel and Farlan waved to him. “Come with us!” they seemed to say. Oluo, El and Gunther called to him, but they were too far away for him to hear, and then there was Petra, smiling reassuringly.

“I can’t hear you!” he protested. The woman in the white dress from before, Kuchel Ackerman, reached out her hand, and he tried to grasp it, but there were Erwin’s hard, blue eyes, shaking his head.

“I need you,” said someone’s voice.

Levi tried to ignore it. He blinked and shook his head. Petra and the others were walking further away from him now.

“No! Take me with you!” he begged, but the mist stifled his voice, and no noise reached them.

The woman in white still beckoned to him, but her shape was blurry; he couldn’t see her face anymore.

“Remember your promise,” echoed Erwin’s voice.

“But Erwin, I can’t…. I’m too tired… Please! Take me with you!” He begged his mother, protesting Erwin’s last orders that rang in his ears even through the sifling mist. But Kuchel drifted back, out of sight, and the mist thickened, leaving him in shadows, the bird still chirping weakly beside him.

***

Mikasa shivered in the watchtower, her eyelids drooping. Please hurry, she silently willed, eyes fixed on the horizon. It was almost nightfall now, and the dusk glare cast a dusty glow on the path of mud, snow and broken trees. She considered going inside to wake up Eren or Armin to relieve her, or Jean. No, I have to stay, I have to keep watching. She knew despite her exhaustion she wouldn’t be able to sleep, so she stiffened her jaw and looked forward, eyes peeled for any movement on the darkening horizon.

Jean opened the door to Levi’s room gently, careful not to make too much noise. Hange had fallen asleep next to him, one hand lying on his chest. Jean could see it gently rising and falling, which brought momentary relief. He thought about waking Hange, but they looked so peaceful there, he figured it was better to leave them be.

Levi’s face was gray like shadows in the snow, and he coughed weakly in his sleep. Jean quietly tiptoed over to the bed and replaced the cloth on his forehead, careful not to wake the sleeping commander. He exited the room and peeked in at Eren and Armin who were both still fast asleep, before going downstairs to start another kettle. As he was filling it with snow from outside, he heard Mikasa shout.

“I can see them! They’re coming down the road!” The shaky desperation in her voice was apparent as she looked at Jean by the door. He almost dropped the kettle in relief. Finally.

Hange woke upon hearing Mikasa’s shout from outside. They sat up, surprised that they had fallen asleep, hand still across Levi’s chest that shuddered under their touch. Are they back? They stood up frantically and peeked out the door.

Jean was standing at the bottom of the stairs, halfway in the door, and Armin and Eren must have woken with the noise, because they both blinked drowsily into the hallway, observing intently.

“Mikasa spotted them!” said Jean. “They’re almost here!”

Hange breathed a sigh of relief and glanced back into the room at Levi’s sleeping form. “Just hold on a little longer,” they whispered.

Sasha and Connie leaped off their horses with urgency, not even bothering to take them to the stable before going inside. Sasha reached protectively into the satchel on her back, its precious contents bundled in her scarf. She and Connie had ridden without stopping until they came across a village. They knocked urgently at every door until someone could direct them to a doctor.

A grey-eyed man with foggy glasses opened the door, looking at the two of them with confusion. “Dr. Friedman?” asked Connie politely.

“Yes?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“We are here on urgent military business, here is a notice from our commander,” said Sasha quickly. She thrust Hange’s note into the doctor’s hands.

“I suppose you’d better come in,” he said, ushering them inside.

They lingered just beyond the doorway while the doctor’s watery eyes scanned Hange’s instructions.

“I see,” he said, looking up at them gravely when he had finished.

Sasha and Connie both returned his glance, desperate and unblinking.

“So, it sounds like it is a quite serious chest infection, high fever, difficulty breathing, yes?” mused the doctor, walking over to a cupboard and taking out some bottles and a scale.

“Yes sir,” said Connie, shuffling his feet on the floor.

Sasha fidgeted with her hands behind her back. Please hurry.

After what felt like an eternity later, the doctor pressed a bottle of something into her trembling hands, along with a written note for Hange.

Connie hastily paid him and muttered his thanks.

Sasha nodded clumsily in gratitude, and they rode off quickly, Dr. Friedman watching them go with his brow furrowed. He was silently wondering why on earth the instructions in the Commander’s notice had said no doctor was to come to their location, only to send medicine. No matter, he thought, going back inside.

Now Sasha and Connie blundered into the house, not even stopping to remove their cloaks as they trundled up the stairs, meeting Hange in the entrance to Levi’s room.

“Good work you two,” said Hange, taking the bottle gingerly from Sasha. They lingered anxiously in the doorway as the one-eyed commander scanned the instructions scrawled on the note. They nodded and went over to Levi’s side.

“Can one of you get me some water?” asked Hange, opening the bottle and looking inside.

Sasha muttered a hurried, “yes sir,” before sprinting downstairs and returning speedily with a cup of cold water. Jean entered the room behind her, with the kettle that had just boiled. Mikasa, having abandoned her post in the watchtower, hovered outside in the hallway, joined by Eren and Armin, still in their nightclothes.

Hange gently lifted Levi from the pillows so he was sitting semi-upright. “Jean, can you hold his nostrils shut?”

Jean pinched Levi’s nose while Hange cautiously measured some of the tonic into the lid of the bottle and poured it into Levi’s mouth. They gave him some water to ensure that it went down. His chest shook slightly, but he was too weak to cough, of which Hange was glad for once, because it meant that the medicine had a chance to enter his body.

“Hopefully this will bring the fever down, and clear the infection,” said Hange after they had laid his head back on the pillows, keeping him upright so that he could breathe more easily.

“Now what?” asked Connie, still standing in the doorway.

“Now we wait to see if it takes effect,” Hange replied in a whisper, brushing some of Levi’s damp hair back from his forehead.

Hange was so exhausted that they almost didn’t notice Jean’s steady hand on their shoulder. “Commander Hange, you should really get some rest, we can look after him.”

Hange glanced backwards to see all of the scouts standing in the doorway, worry etched deep on all of their faces. They smiled slightly. If Levi ever finds out that this many people were in his room at once, watching him sleep…. Well who says I ever have to tell him?

“Okay,” they said, standing and walking towards the door. Jean had already replaced them at the bedside, cooling Levi’s forehead again.

“Thank you, all of you for your help. I know the Captain will be deeply grateful when he wakes up. He likes to pretend like he doesn’t need anyone, but I know him better than that. He needs all of us, just as much as we need him…” Hange trailed off and sighed, looking once more at Levi’s sleeping form. They weren’t sure if they imagined it, but he already looked more at ease. Too tired to hear the scouts bashfully respond to them, Commander Hange walked to their bed, with limbs heavy, and was asleep within minutes.

By the next morning, Levi’s fever had dropped a considerable amount, and his breathing seemed to become less labored. The medicine thankfully seemed to be taking effect.

The scouts worked diligently to clean up the house the next day, ensuring that every corner, every surface, and anything beyond was tidy and spotless. They kept the kettle boiling, fire roaring and lookout manned. They would be fine.

The snow outside also started to melt on its own, signalling that Hange would have no choice but to return to HQ soon. They had already been away for far too long, and they had accomplished what they had come here to do, though not necessarily in the way that they expected. Knowing this, they decided to depart the next morning, after they were sure that Levi was really on the road to recovery. It made them uneasy, leaving Levi before he had regained consciousness, but they also felt reassured that he was in good hands.

Levi’s eyes fluttered open slowly. He felt warm, a heavy blanket on top of him. He stared upwards into shocked blue eyes. Erwin…? But then he blinked. No, it was Armin, who looked at him wide-eyed with an expression of pure relief.

“Captain! You’re awake!” he exclaimed, and placed a cold hand on Levi’s forehead.

“What are you doing?” he coughed, trying to sit up.

Armin pulled his hand away, breathing with a sigh of relief. “Fever is gone. You really scared us Captain!”

Levi groaned, sinking back down into the pillows. “What happened?”

“You had a fever sir,” stuttered Armin, “you were unconscious for about four days, we were really worried!”

Unconscious for four days? He thought in alarm.

He was aware of the door creaking open softly, and Hange entered the room, beaming. “I thought I heard right!” They exclaimed, rushing towards the bed and ensnaring Levi in a crippling hug. They broke away, muttering apologies when he started coughing again, his chest still echoing with the hollow sound, but no longer gasping for breath like he had been.

Hange felt his forehead just as Armin had done and smiled to feel that it had indeed cooled to a normal temperature.

“How are you feeling?” asked Armin gently.

Levi closed his eyes tightly for a second, opening them slowly. “Better now that you’re not crushing me anymore.” His voice was still hoarse. The fever had broken, but he was far from well. His face was pale and drawn, and his eyes were glassy and distant, carrying more shadows than they had before.

“You have Armin to thank for saving your life!” said Hange.

Armin shifted his eyes to the floor, looking embarrassed. “Well I…”

“Come on, give yourself some credit!” said Hange, slapping him on the shoulder with a little too much force.

“Oh…?” replied Levi, raising an eyebrow weakly.

“He transformed and melted all the snow so we were able to find you some medicine,” said Hange.

Levi widened his eyes as much as the strain in his head would allow, impressed. “Thank you Armin, it seems I owe you a great deal.”

“It wasn’t just me,” protested Armin. “Commander Hange rarely left your side, Sasha and Connie were the ones who ran to get the medicine, Eren and Mikasa retrieved me, and Jean made sure you stayed alive while we were gone: we all helped each other. You don’t owe me anything Captain. We’re a squad and that’s what we do. We need each other; at least, I couldn’t have done it alone.” Armin averted his eyes after his outburst of sincerity.

Levi nodded in cool agreement. “It seems I chose my squad well. Erwin would be proud.”

“I’m heading back to HQ in the morning,” said Hange, “but I feel better leaving, knowing you’re in very good hands.” They smiled at Armin.

Armin looked down at the floor again, not sure if he should believe the captain’s, or the commander’s words.

Levi shuddered and coughed again, wondering why he was still so tired if he had really been asleep for four days as Armin had said.

“We should let you rest,” said Hange softly, noticing his eyelids begin to droop with heaviness.

Too exhausted and weak to reply, Levi allowed himself to sink down onto the pillows, and within seconds, he was asleep. Hange adjusted the blankets once more before they quietly left the room with Armin.

Levi slept most of the next day, consistently and without strange dreams this time. Hange peeked in briefly before they left, careful not to wake him. They hadn’t ever seen Levi sleep this soundly before. However quiet they tried to be though, he still blinked awake and said hoarsely, “where are you going?”

Even when he’s sick he’s still the world’s lightest sleeper…

“I have to go back to HQ now,” Hange said. “I’ve already been away too long, and the snow is clearing, so I don’t really have an excuse anymore.”

“Good,” grunted Levi, “I’m starting to feel like one of your experiments.”

Hange laughed. “You’ll be in good hands here, try not to miss me too much.”

He nodded and then coughed. “Seriously though, Thank you Hange. I really do appreciate it.”

Their good eye widened. “What’s that? Captain Levi expressing his appreciation for me ? Do you have a fever again?” They felt his forehead just to be sure, grinning sideways when it was revealed to be cool and dry.

He shrugged weakly. “Armin was right, maybe we do all need each other.”

Hange smiled at that and said, “No cleaning when I’m gone, no training, no unnecessary exertion- you’re still very weak so I’m ordering you to stay in bed and let the squad take care of you.”

He rolled his eyes slightly, but muttered a quiet, “yes commander,” so Hange was able to leave satisfied.

The medicine and instructions were left on the bedside table for the scouts to administer. They all waved to Hange as they rode away down the muddy path through the broken trees.

Sometime in the evening the day Hange left, there was a soft knock on Levi’s door. He grunted, waking up slowly and sitting up, still a little shaky.

Mikasa came in with a steaming bowl that she set down on the table. “I brought you some food,” she said. “I mean- I don’t know if you’re hungry but you should probably eat something.”

“Thank you,” he said hoarsely, starting to try to get out of bed, but his muscles wouldn’t obey, and he laid back down, feeling drained as if he had just faced a titan headlong. Where is all my energy? I’m supposed to be humanity’s strongest soldier, but I can barely even lift my head.

“It’s ok,” reassured Mikasa, “Don’t try to get up. You’ve been very sick sir, so it’ll be awhile before you can get your strength back.”

Levi avoided her eyes as she brought the bowl closer to him. He tried to take it from her, but she withdrew when she noticed his hands trembling. “I’d better do it,” she said in a soothing voice.

Utterly defeated by the humiliation that he was too weak to even lift his hand to eat, he allowed Mikasa to feed him the warm broth. He wasn’t aware of it tasting like anything, but he could feel it warming his body and soothing the tremors in his chest.

He wanted to stop halfway through the bowl, but Mikasa looked at him sternly and made him finish the rest, “The only way you’ll get stronger is if you eat.”

The soup made him feel warm and sleepy. Mikasa’s face was blurring before his eyes. “Rest now sir,” she said, drawing the blanket up to cover him, but he didn’t hear her; he had already closed his eyes and sunk into sleep.

Levi woke the next day to dim light coming through his icy window panes. The soft glow came from the west, signalling that it was sunset. Did I really sleep all day?

He gingerly climbed out of bed. His muscles screamed in protest, and he still coughed roughly as he stood. Hange had ordered him to stay in bed, yes, but his body was stiff and achy, not from the feverish chill in his body anymore, but from lying in bed for 5 days straight.

Shakily, he put a clean shirt on and wrapped a thin blanket around his shoulders. He didn’t know where his jacket was and he didn’t have the energy to look for it. The house was still cold, but he was certain now that this was from the frost on the windows, and not from fever.

He stumbled out of the room, holding on to the wall for support.

“Captain, what are you doing!” Exclaimed Sasha from behind him.

He turned his face to see her eyes, wide-eyed with concern.

He coughed, “I need to get out of that room, I need some air.”

She was next to him in an instant, offering her arm for support, which he reluctantly took. “Commander Hange said-”

“Don’t worry, I won’t try to clean or do anything strenuous, I just want to go downstairs,” he croaked.

Sasha looked uneasy, “but Captain Levi…”

He narrowed his eyes at her and she nodded, allowing her to take hold of his shoulders and help him downstairs.

Levi almost gasped out loud when he saw the downstairs. His eyes widened in surprise. “What...it’s completely spotless!” Every surface had been dusted, cleaned and polished.

Sashsa blushed… “Er, we cleaned a bit while you were asleep.”

Levi allowed her to guide him into the kitchen, which was immaculately clean, not a smudge nor crumb in sight. A pot of soup boiled invitingly on the stove. He actually admitted that he found himself hungry, unlike yesterday when he had forced himself to eat to appease Mikasa.

The others were milling around the kitchen, setting the table and getting ready to eat together.

“Captain Levi!” They all shouted in unison.

“Enough already,” he grumbled, as Sasha helped him into a chair. “You can’t be that happy to see me.”

“Sir, shouldn’t you still be in bed?” asked Armin nervously.

“You still look a bit pale…” remarked Mikasa. She also noticed that he had visibly lost weight. His clothes hung loosely around his shoulders and his cheeks were hollow on his face, dark circles etched deeply below his eyes.

Levi glared at them both, “So? What is it to you?”

Well at least he has his attitude back, that’s a good sign, thought Eren.

Sasha poured him a bowl of soup and set it down in front of him. He nodded to her gratefully, trying to stifle the slight shaking in his hands as he lifted the spoon. Damn it, I can do this myself... His efforts weren’t enough to completely hide his struggle though, based on the expression of concern that they were all shooting in his direction. He ignored them and instead took another look around the room intently. “I have to say, I am impressed, I’ve never seen it this clean in here; I couldn’t have done a better job myself.”

They all widened their eyes and ate their soup, too shocked that Captain Levi was complimenting them to actually say anything. “Th-thank you Captain?” said Jean hesitantly.

They all stared nervously around the table, and it was Sasha who finally broke the silence. “We were just so worried about you sir!”

“We thought you were going to die!” added Armin.

“Uh yeah… it was really unsettling having you out of commission,” said Jean.

“Please never scare us like that again Sir!” cried Mikasa.

Eren didn’t say anything but nodded vigorously in agreement, his green eyes directed across the table with determined intensity.

“Relax, it’ll take more than a stupid cough to kill me,” said Levi, ending his sentence in annoyance as he actually started coughing.

He ignored their looks of concern and said, “So, did anything interesting happen while I was asleep? I mean, besides Armin turning into a titan and Eren not being a sulky teen anymore and ignoring the rest of us.”

Eren scowled. Sasha giggled softly and Armin and Mikasa both averted their eyes.

“Pretty much sums it up sir…” said Jean, clearly trying not to laugh.

Just at that moment, the door opened with a gust of chilly air and Connie trundled in from the watchtower. He hung his cloak and said, without turning around, “Eren it’s your turn on lookout!”

He walked into the kitchen and broke into a huge smile when he saw Levi. “Captain!” He exclaimed, “Welcome back!”

“Thank you Connie,” he replied, his voice husky.

Eren stood up, eyes downcast and went to take up his post outside. Okay nevermind, he’s as moody as always.

Levi tried to help them clear away the dishes after they were all done eating, but Mikasa firmly stopped him. “Sorry sir, but Hange strictly ordered us not to let you clean.”

“Did they now…?” he sighed. There was no point fighting back over a few dishes, besides, he didn’t have the energy anyway.

Instead, he succumbed to sitting in front of the fire, subtly watching them clean up. He could hear Sasha and Connie splashing dishwater at each other, Jean complaining when it accidentally struck him, and Armin’s light footfalls as he swept the floor, Mikasa’s hands wiping down the table in smooth, polished motions…

The noises were comforting; the sound of their laughter and rhythmic working brought a warm feeling into his chest.

Someone brought him a cup of tea, but his eyes were already starting to become heavy. “Thank you,” he murmured, smiling slightly, and then feeling warm and content, he allowed himself to rest.

“I’ve never seen him look this relaxed!” whispered Mikasa, who had put down the teacup.

“Shhhh,” said Armin, covering him gently with a blanket.

They diminished into the kitchen, leaving him there with a peaceful expression on his face.

Levi slept soundly and dreamed of snow, but this time no blue-eyed shadows followed him, and he was able to watch glittering white flakes dance, laughing peacefully as they fell.

#whump #hurt comfort #levi ackerman #sickfic #attack on titan #levi #sick levi #fanfiction #levi squad #survey corps #hange zoë

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