he is trying his best

Oblivious

Request from anon: Hi, I really enjoy your writing, particularly your Zemo fics! I had an idea for one that basically follows the while y/n joining Sam, Bucky, and Zemo through Madirpoor and Riga. Only despite Zemo’s flirting, y/n doesn’t really do anything about it or even notice until y/n along with Sam and Bucky witness Walker (New Captian America) murder a flag smasher in the street. They all go back to the safe house and y/n is like, in shock. “Captian America just killed someone” is all y/n can really say. And Zemo is able to calm them down. Maybe the romance can start then?

Word count: 3.4k

Author’s note: This one-shot can be multiple parts, if you would like to see a sequel please say! If I do decide to write a sequel though it will take me a while as I’ve had a lot of requests, please check out my master list to see what I have coming up next and if requests are currently open or not

Masterlist

(Please check out my master list to see what I will be writing next and if requests are open or closed)

Cross-posted to ao3 under the same username

Heels clicked along the pavement as you sashayed along the road, approaching the men before you, two of which you know fondly. The other one, however... not so much.

They all stood close together in a circle, obviously discussing something important but at hearing your voice call out their heads turn towards you, a smile appearing on Sam and Bucky’s faces as they see you. “Long time no see boys,” you say, stopping a few feet away from them to lean on a wall.

They both walk over to you, Bucky pulling you into and hug then followed by Sam hugging you tightly. “Thank you for agreeing to help us out y/n. I know things haven’t been easy for you,”

You fake a smile at Bucky, one you hoped he wouldn’t see past resting your arm around his shoulder. “Anything for my friends,”

He was right, though. These times haven’t been easy for you, especially after Steve Rodgers left. Captain America had always been your idol, ever since you were a little kid you aspired to be just like him. You collected all the Captain America merchandise along with your brother Phil, always arguing with him who owned which toy of his. Meeting Steve had been a dream come true for you. He was the person you were closest to. He helped you come to terms with your brother’s death and whenever you needed help; he was there. You two stuck together through the thick and thin. That’s was how you got to become good friends with Sam and Bucky. You and Steve have always had a complicated relationship, though. You two liked each other and tried to see if you could be something more, but it never seemed to work out. Then Thanos happened. You, along with half the universe, were dusted. For you it was as if you had simply blinked however for Steve it was five years without you. You barely got to see each other again before he went away for good. You couldn’t hate him for it, you understood why he did what he did. He was always telling you about the ’40s, about his childhood, about her. You just wished you weren’t so connected with him. Seeing him there, old, dying. It broke your heart. But times move on. You can’t live in the past as he did.

Your eyes focus on the man behind Sam and Bucky and you frown, pulling your arm away from Bucky. A man you never thought you would see again was staring right back at you.

He stood a few feet back, knowing he wasn’t welcomed in the warm reunion of friendship. He clasped his hands, unsure what exactly he should do right now, feeling awkward, but as he looked over at you his eyes twinkled with recognition. Now you had been interesting to him. You weren’t a super soldier like Steve and James. Yet you certainly could hold your own against them. He had seen when he had first activated James. No, your strength and fighting abilities were down to your own human powers and he admired that. You were one of the few avengers he might have had an inkling to like if the Sokovia attack never happened. Still, it wasn’t as if you were to blame for it. The people who were to blame had suffered for it. You were merely the pawn in the giant game of chess. Perhaps he could grow to like you, after all, he could admit you were certainly tempting to him, the way your body was shaped excited him, the way your neck was shaped made him want to brush his fingers along it and your piercing eyes felt like they could look into the darkest corners of his soul.

“Why is he out of prison?” you snap, bringing Zemo out of his trance

Sam turns to scowl at Bucky as you all turn to Zemo, who awkwardly smiles. “Bucky thinks we need him,” Sam mutters

“Why would we need him!” you exclaim, crossing your arms and shooting Bucky a glare.

“I am invaluable,” Zemo explains with his hands, his eyes unwavering from you as he answers for Bucky.

“He hates super-soldiers, therefore he will help us in getting to Karli,” Bucky says, stepping in front of your eyesight trying to explain himself.

“That also means he hates you, Buck,”

All of them freeze as you address the elephant in the room. Bucky grits his teeth and steps back, averting your gaze as you and Sam stare expectedly at him but he doesn’t respond so Zemo takes his opportunity to step closer to you, now only a few feet apart.

“I can assure you, getting rid of Karli and her super soldier friends is my priority. Not James,”

You clench your jaw in anger as you look at Zemo. He tilts his head, the side of his lip curling up slightly, hoping you’d take a chance on him. Sighing, you turn to shoot one more look at Bucky.

“Steve wouldn’t have liked this,”

Later you sat across from Zemo on his private jet. All of you sat in uncomfortable silence as you flew to Madripoor. Sam and Bucky did not seem as close as you were to both of them. They both just sat on their respective sides and looked out the window. Zemo had a book on him which he seemed very preoccupied reading, yet there were moments where you could feel his eyes settle upon you. Ignoring his inquisitive gaze, you choose to follow in Bucky and Sam’s lead of looking out the window and daydream the rest of the trip away.

Your mind trails back to Steve. You wondered just what Steve would have thought about you teaming up with Zemo. He would have understood, wouldn’t he? It was the best option you had. Ah, but he had always been such a stickler about the rules. Breaking a criminal out and helping him avoid the law wasn’t very patriotic of you. Yep, he would not have gone through with this plan, he would have found another way that worked. But none of the people here were him. He choose not to be here. You knew you had to let him go.

“Champagne?”

You pull your eyes away from the window, coming back to reality as you see a bottle of champagne in Zemo’s hand and an empty glass in his other hand. He already had another glass full beside him as he looked at you expectantly.

“No,”

“Sure?”

“What part of no do you not understand,” you snap harshly glaring at him then back out to the window

“My apologies,” he says, pursing his lips together as he looks down at the empty glass. He glances over to Sam and Bucky but they both shake their heads as well so he hands the glass and drinks back to his butler and sighs as he opens his book again.

The tension between all of you sticks around as you arrive at Madripoor. Zemo had provided you a tight-fitting dress to ‘appear the part’ of your allice, and it showed off a bit too much of your chest than you liked. It was too bright for you, golden and sparky, cutting off at your upper tight, and had a very low v cut. You try your best to pull it down to cover you some more but to no avail. Begrudgingly, you leave the plane to meet up with the rest of them.

“My my y/n, the dress suits you,” Zemo says, smirking as his eyes trail up and down your body as you walk past him taking a straight beeline towards Sam and Bucky.

“How long will this mission take?” you ask, already feeling the cold air nip at your skin.

“Few hours at the least. I’m sorry that you have to do this, y/n”

“Hey, I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to help you two,” you mutter as you hear a car pulling up behind you

“Not exactly this though,” Bucky grumbles, glowering over at Zemo who motions to the car that had arrived. Zemo opens the door and waits for you to get in however you walk to the other side of the car and get in. Bucky chuckles at Zemo’s annoyed expression as he instead gets into the side, which Zemo held open.

During the mission, Zemo kept getting uncomfortably close to you. Occasionally his hand brushed against your back as he moved past you, or his hand would bump into yours slightly, lingering against yours longer than normal.

You knew why he was doing this. Because of Steve. He knew how close you and Steve were, everyone did. During the fight between Steve and Tony which Zemo had helped cause you stuck by Steve every second. Now that Steve was gone, Zemo was trying to rub that in. Trying to irritate you on purpose. You would not let him get to you.

During the meeting with Selby you stood off to the side with Sam and you were feeling pretty good about yourself that the mission was going well until Sam’s phone rang. You tried to keep cool while also giving Sam the wtf look as to why he didn’t put his phone on silent. You hung out hoping things would go okay, but today wasn’t your day.

Shelby got gunned down in front of you, and the mission was ruined. Running in heels wasn’t ideal, but you had to make do. You followed Sam and Bucky as Zemo split up from you, running off somewhere else. Eventually, you kicked off your heels, believing running barefoot would be better than dealing with the agony of heels.

Finally, meeting back up with Zemo, you were ready to have to fight your way out of this mess, but then someone you didn’t think you would ever see again appeared. Sharon Carter. You two weren’t exactly buddy buddies. You got along for Steve’s sake, but it always felt like a sort of rivalry between you two for his attention.

“Y/n,” she says, finally addressing you

“Sharon,” you say back, feeling the awkwardness seep back in. Sharon didn’t seem bothered however, she even kindly let you have some new clothes and shoes which were much more comfortable than the ones Zemo lent you and more your style.

Walking back into the main room you see Zemo sitting down, once again drinking, Bucky sitting down as far away from Zemo as he could get and Sam standing at the side. You choose to stand by Sam.

“Hey, y/n, you doing okay?” Sam asks as you walk over.

“Better than other days. What are we waiting around for?”

“For Sharon to lead us to a party where she can get the information we need,” Zemo answers for Sam, peeking over at you. You ignore him.

Sharon comes back in and tells all of you not to get in trouble while you are out at the party.

“Trouble,” Zemo jokes, and he once again glances over to you, raising a glass and winking at you as he downs it.

Following Sharon, you head into the party. It was to show off the art pieces she had got a hold of so you thought you might as well look at them as you were unlikely to see any of these genuine pieces again. You could see however Zemo following you. He tried to be sly by checking out the other artworks near you, never exactly where you were, but you could tell because every time you moved to a new place soon enough Zemo would suddenly appear there as well. He leaned into one of the artworks, pretending to study it closely, but the corner of his eyes would flick over to you.

Groaning in frustration at your new stalker, you decide you had to lose him in the crowds. Swaying your body, you enter the dancing crowd and jump along to the music, letting yourself go. You could feel your excitement growing with the crowd as you danced, but with one quick turn around there, you saw him.

Zemo had now entered the crowd and was dancing along to the music as well, pumping his hands in time to it. As you stared at him in disbelief, he notices and takes that as an innovation to dance over to you.

“Dancing is fun, right?” he asks as he claps his hand to the music

“Why are you doing this!” you exclaim glaring at him.

His eyebrows furrow as he looks at you, “I don’t understand what you mean?”

You huff in annoyance and storm away, going to find Sam and Bucky leaving Zemo alone on the dance floor. He watches you go and sighs, moving away from the dance floor. It had been a long time since he last got to socialize with anyone and he was trying with you; he wanted to know you more, but he didn’t want to push you too far either if you were uncomfortable with it.

The next few hours felt like a blur to everyone. Sharon found out where the doctor was and you found out a bit of information before Zemo choose to shoot him. Then the whole place exploded, and you had to fight for your life while Zemo hijacked and car to pick you up. Now you were standing outside the safe house.

Zemo opened up the doors, and with his arm motioned for you to go in first. You roll your eyes at his extravagance and storm in, looking around the place. It was simple, but you could still tell that it was all designer, expensive to Zemo’s tastes. You sit down on the sofa while Zemo instantly gravitates towards the liquor cupboard.

“If you drink so much you won’t have long left to live” you mutter as you watch him pour some whiskey. His head shoots up as he turns sidewards to look at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Concerned about my health now?”

“I’d rather have you not pass out during a mission, at least till you are no longer of use to us then you can drink yourself to death for all I care,”

“Ah concern for the mission, yes you avengers folks are all the same. The mission takes precedence before anything else,” Zemo says, grabbing his glass and walking over to take a seat on the sofa opposite you.

You give him a cold hard stare crossing your arms. “What do you mean by that” you hiss

He tilts his head, smirking as he sees how riled up you were getting. “I’m simply observing that you have to put your mission before human lives. I know from how much I studied Steve-”

“Don’t bring Steve into this!” you exclaim, leaning forward, baring your teeth at him.

Zemo pauses for a moment shocked, he pulls his head back to observe, his mouth slightly ajar as his eyebrows cast down but realization dawns across his face.

“Ah, you and Steve, you two were an item,”

“It wasn’t like that” you murmur, jumping up from the sofa and pacing around the room to try to alleviate the agitation you felt, your nails digging into your arms as you wrapped them around your body in comfort.

“But there was something,” Zemo replies, watching you pace around the room then looking into the glass bitterly, his grip on it tightening.

You turn your back to Zemo to stare at your reflection in the mirror, seeing the tears swell up in your eyes.

“Why are you bringing this up? Why do you keep trying to annoy me Zemo, what purpose are you getting from this apart from some sick sadistic pleasure?”

It was Zemo’s turn to jump up from the sofa, hurt you could ever think so lowly of him, his eyebrows furrowed as he speeds over to you. He stands beside you, getting a lot closer to you than you would like. You turned your head away so he couldn’t see the tears threatening to fall.

“Do you think that bad of me? Y/n we may not have had the best first impression but know that it is never my intention to irritate or upset you,” Zemo says, trying to move even closer to you, but he moves a step too far and you back away.

“Just leave me alone, Zemo” you whisper, then run out of the room to find a bathroom to let everything out.

Zemo watches your form leave, angrily clenching his jaw, knowing he pushed it too far. The vein in his neck twitches as he grabs an ornament by the side of the mirror. Holding it in his hand, he observes the glass figure, a dove, then chucks it into the ground in rage, feeling an inkling of satisfaction at seeing it smash into a thousand pieces. He grabs more ornaments, at that moment not caring how much they each cost, just enjoy the release of anger he felt every time he smashed one.

-

You could hear the blood in your brain roar through your ears, the feeling of your heart hitting your chest in shock as you stared down at Lemar’s dead body.

Your eyes flicker to John’s who knelt beside him, trying desperately to wake him up, but you knew it was hopeless. Lemar was gone. Your eyes flickered around the rest of the room, Karli and her friend realising how bad they have messed up were already running away from the room. Bucky and Sam looked at each other as if knowing what was to happen. Your eyes finally land on Zemo’s. John had tried to arrest him, but you were able to stop him. Zemo was still useful though you hated to admit it, it wasn’t long however till the Dora Milaje would find him.

You feel a hand brush against your shoulder and snap back into reality, “We need to leave, now,” Zemo whispered in your ear, pulling your arm to make you move.

Gathering your senses, you let Zemo lead you out of the building as you hear a crash from above. Running out into the road, you and Zemo catch up beside Sam and Bucky and watch the disaster unfold.

There was John, in Cap’s uniform, holding Cap’s shield above that man.

Steve.

Steve’s shield.

You feel a scream tear from your lips as you watch John Walker bring the shield down, penetrating the man’s chest, staining it in blood. Tears leak from your eyes as you attempt to rush forward, to try and stop it, but arms grasp onto you, pulling you back.

“NO” you repeatedly cried, trying to worm your way out of the grasp, but they gripped you, refusing to let go. Your knees gave out and you sink to the floor, collapsing in the arms of the person who held you, your head buried in the fur part of their coat as they held you to their chest.

You kept sobbing, shaking as the image replayed over and over in your mind.

“Captain America just killed someone,” you whispered, unable to say anything else. The arms which held you picked you up, quietly shushing you, and carried you down a road, back into the safe house.

They tried to put you on the sofa but you clung to their body, not believing you could survive without their support, so they settle on lying down beside you on the sofa.

They turned you to face their body as their arms draped around you, gently rubbing circles into your back. Burying your head into their chest again, you let the sobs wail out as your chest ached from breathing.

“Captain America just killed someone,” you whisper again to him.

“That wasn’t Steve, y/n, Steve would never do something like that,” he murmured, his accent soothing your nerves.

“But it was his shield Zemo. The very thing I had idolized for so long,”

“A shield which by now no longer belongs to him. He was never Captain America y/n, what we just saw proved that. They will give the shield to someone better,”

You sniff, trying to prevent the snot from coming out of your nose as your bloodshot eyes look up into his, “Really?”

He gently smiles at you, taking his hand off your back to push a strand of hair that was hanging over your eye away.

“Yes, they won’t make the same mistake twice,”

Zemo’s words brought more comfort than you could have ever imagined. His embrace brought you warmth and you could feel yourself slowly stop shaking as he held you. Looking away from Zemo in embarrassment, you instead choose to snuggle your head back into his chest, hearing the rapid beating of his heart which lulled you to sleep.

Tags: @sinister-sleep @cable-kenobi @faustlyaccused @chipster-21 @icarusinstatic @yallgotkik @montypythonsholysnail @bunniwritesx @checkurwindow @huntheimpossible @jayxkelsi @avgravy @prestigious-tea @aloyssiac @hannahbal-the-fannibal @alainabooks143 @jokerprettyprincess @plumsandkiwis @latenightartist-author @e-barba @flutterskies @wonderwoman292 @there-goes-thefighter @multiyfandomgirl40 @freyjasamael @ineffablebean

3 | Masquerade

Written for Kidgetober 2020. Day 3 - Free Day.

Summary: Alternate Universe. Princess Katla of Altea sees a golden opportunity to get a first-hand look at the new Emperor and Empress of Daibazaal and decide for herself whether or not they’re trustworthy. It’s too bad she’s been forbidden from attending the masquerade. Not that she’ll let that stop her.

Also posted on AO3 under the username Kishirokitsune. Titled as “The Scent of Autumn”.

- - - - -

3 | Masquerade

Technically, she wasn't supposed to be there.

It had been decided phoebs ago when planning for the masquerade first began that she and her brother would not be in attendance for their own safety. They couldn't risk the entire royal family being in one place, especially when their peace treaty with the Galra was so recent.

Katla agreed with them at first, but as the phoebs went on, the newly established Emperor Kolivan and Empress Krolia showed that they were capable of keeping their word as they withdrew their forces and took to issuing reparations with little complaint. It wasn't that Katla wanted to get dressed up for some fancy party but that she wanted to see them with her own eyes and find out if they were as genuine as they seemed to be.

So she donned a pretty dress and found a mask to cover most of her face, shifting her features ever-so-slightly so no one would spare her more than a passing glance. Her overall plan was fairly simple to make it easy to adjust for things going awry, but her main goal was to stay away from anyone who stood a chance at recognizing her and staying just long enough to see the Emperor and Empress.

The biggest thing she had to remember was that she couldn't afford any distractions.

She couldn't go off and chat with the genius inventor Slav for an hour to discuss his theories on alternate realities or find High Priestess Allura to have another discussion on Altean Sages, no matter how tempting both of those ideas were.

Katla tried not to yawn at the unending babble of small-talk happening around her. She smiled politely at a passing Galra who wore an elaborate golden mask and then turned away so he couldn't examine her more closely. She was fairly surprised at how many Galra were in attendance, though she supposed it made sense since their sovereigns would also be there to celebrate the treaty.

What wasn't a surprise was the fact that there wasn't much (if there was any) mingling between the Alteans and the Galra. It was as though a clear line was drawn in the room and very few dared to cross it.

Had she been attending as princess, she would be expected to do something about that, but since she was undercover, she was free to continue lurking in the background, free of royal burden.

The best part was not having to wear an overly elaborate dress whose skirt was wider than she was tall.  The gown she'd chosen for herself was sleek and green with an empire waist and a high neckline embroidered with curling vines and tiny red flowers. Both sleeves completely covered her arms and across the backs of her hands, where a thin band looped around her middle finger to hold them in place. The skirt brushed across the tops of her low-heeled shoes.

Simple, yet still appropriately elegant for the masquerade.

Katla continued to observe the room, meandering her way through the crowds to get different vantage points. On her second pass across the invisible line which divided the room, someone clothed in heavy black fabric stepped into her path and softly spoke a question:

“Excuse me, miss?”

Katla went rigidly still, sure that she was about to get called out by one of the guards. She slowly lifted her eyes to his face and her panic dropped straight to confusion at the glimpse of purple skin beneath the scaled red mask he wore.

Definitely not one of the Altean guards.

“May I ask for a dance?” he asked, holding out his hand.

Katla forced a smile onto her face as her planning began to topple around her. She couldn't say no; the atmosphere was too delicate for her to refuse a dance with a Galra. “I would be delighted,” she responded as pleasantly as she could muster.

He swept her away onto the dance floor, where they attracted more attention than Katla was comfortable with. She had to hope that her disguise would hold up under the scrutiny of the masses and that it would be aided by the common knowledge that she was not meant to be attending the masquerade.

She just needed to think positively. Dancing with a visiting Galra opened up a new opportunity for her to talk to someone on the inside, so long as she tread carefully with her words.

Katla had never been the best at that.

“You’re very good at this,” she complimented.

“Thank you,” he responded. There was a momentary pause and then he leaned a little closer and lowered his voice to say: “That is a high compliment from the Princess of Altea.”

Katla nearly reeled back in surprise, but his steady hand against her back kept her in place. “How-?”

He casually spun her so she was facing away from the majority of the crowd. “I recognized you from all of the photographs I've seen, but I don't think anyone else has. I won't tell anyone. I just wanted to talk to you. Please, princess, one dance and I'll leave you alone.”

Katla did her best to keep her cool. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“You... don't recognize me?”

“Should I?” she retorted.

Even as she bristled over the way she'd been called out and wanted nothing more than to get away from everything and everyone, she stayed where she was and took a moment to examine him more closely. His clothing told her nothing. The overcoat was made of a thick material and patterned with scales to match his mask, while the under-suit was a dark gray and hugged close to his body. It all screamed of protection rather than style – but that wasn't uncommon for the Galra. From what little Katla could see of his face, she could tell his skin tone was more purple than blue and that there was the beginning of a darker stripe rising from the underside of his jaw and going up his cheeks.

It was the stripes that sparked something in her memory.

They were remarkably similar to the ones Empress Krolia had.

That meant...

“Prince Keithir?” Katla whispered. When he nodded, she dived into an apology. “I'm so sorry! I didn't recognize you!”

“I think that's the whole point of the masks,” he remarked, tilting his head to one side. “There's nothing to forgive, especially when I wasn't supposed to be here either.”

Katla chanced a glance around the room and found there were still too many eyes on them for her to be comfortable. “We shouldn't talk here. Do you see the door on the west side of the room closest to the north corner? Go through there and make the first left you come to. Near the end of that hall, just before it splits left and right, there's a door on your right. Go through there and you'll be in the garden. We'll meet there in twenty doboshes.”

Prince Keithir nodded in agreement. “Is there a specific spot in the garden?”

“There's a new installation nearby. A raised bed full of juniberries and marmora blossoms that's meant to symbolize the peace between our people,” Katla said.

“Then I will see you there,” Prince Keithir agreed.

They continued to sway to the music as it came to an end, politely bowing to each other once it was over before going their separate ways. Katla wandered back into the crowd of Alteans, mingling with them until the staring stopped and she was able to slowly make her way towards the door.

There was a moment where she deliberated on whether or not she wanted to go meet him, but her curiosity won her over in the end. Whatever he had to tell her must be important if he snuck into the masquerade for the sole purpose of speaking with her.

Or maybe, a part of her whispered, maybe he was there for the same reason she was.

Katla was looking forward to finding out.

Hello there! I couldn't help but notice that salty anon asking about your stance on Levi so I'll ask again because it sure sounds interesting! Do you mind telling us how you feel about him?

Okay, so the original question from a dumb hater was how I could even support a romantic ship between Eren and Levi if I am not a Levi fan*.

*If a ”Levi fan”, like that idiotic anon meant, is someone who excuses all of Levi’s bad behaviors, then no, I am not a fan.

Premise no.1: I’ve loved Levi for so many years, he’s been part of my twitter handle in the past, is in my Tumblr url, icons on various social media, I have a lot of merchandise and not only for “the sake of the ship”. I genuinely used to love him to the point that he was my favorite character alongside Eren, I couldn’t pick one. So I guess I am a bit of a fan, after all.

Premise no.2: I am a gigantic bag of salt about this topic so tread carefully if you’re easily offended. I won’t sugarcoat my VERY BIASED opinions, and if you strongly disagree, that’s perfectly fine. I won’t change my opinion with the information we currently have, because this isn’t a gut reaction I spent two seconds on, I actually soul searched (lol) for the reasons as to why I felt so negatively about Levi. He was my fave, and I felt deeply hurt and confused and frustrated, so I thought long and hard about it. I am open to change my mind if anything else comes out of him in the future.

Also, I have already spent a lot of words on how I feel about Levi’s character as of late, here, here, and here, here, here and here for example, also here and here (I haven’t exactly been silent about it lol) but let me reiterate it into one incomplete post. It’s really freaking long, and a wall of text at it. I don’t expect people to put up with this messy rant, but suit yourself if you want to.

@ the people who sent these new questions almost a month ago, I’m sorry this isn’t the reply you hoped for. If you guys want a more positive take on this, just look through my ereri meta tag.

Levi as a character can be simplified in 3 points, in my opinion: 1) the deep, caring feelings he has for his comrades and as such the responsibility he feels for them and their deaths; 2) his violent side and how he resorts to violence to solve situations. These 2 merge together into 3) what used to be his main goal, free humanity. He lent his strength (that at times he uses for violence/to get his way) to the cause: helping in freeing humanity inside the walls because the sense of freedom is worth everything.

So, harsh opinion: I believe he has lost sight of his goal – as Isayama has stated in the past even though I didn’t wanna believe it because it made zero sense and cheapened everything I loved about Levi – and he has fallen back into his worst behaviors. Add to that a lack of active presence and engagement in the actual story, and you get this predictable, background character that I can’t for the life of me enjoy currently. Because apparently, he forgot how to live on his own without Erwin’s guidance (and here I’d have another bag of salt to pour but this would get too long, and I don’t have the patience to word it in a way that wouldn’t bring me the ire of his fans).

I don’t know if Levi is really supposed to be seen this way, but at least to me, the focus has been mostly on this: his anger/violence/flaws, and his lack of involvement.

I never liked the way he resorted to violence to “resolve” not life-or-death situations or simply to vent his frustrations, in the first place. It’s something Eren had to let go of, he was rewarded when he used his wits, abandoning pure rage for the sake of revenge, and it’s always been Isayama’s intention, imo, to show as much with the story in general and with Levi as well, as Levi has never been rewarded for it either.

So, witnessing his character revert AGAIN to kicks and straight-up sadism, as a fan, has been a big disappointment. Then, the shift of his goal because “saving humanity” wasn’t Erwin’s goal, after all, has been another point of disappointment – but this happened way before the current arc. His obsession with “making the dead soldiers’ sacrifices worth it” can be commendable, but the way he’s going about it is totally blind and dictated by anger and loss of hope, in a way, so I don’t see it as something positive either. He lacks vision, he lacks a voice in the things that are happening around him as if he doesn’t care whatever happens to all of them, as long as he can make Zeke suffer and kill him. I know it’s not totally the case, because we have seen (and I want to believe) that he still cares about his comrades who are still alive, as seen during the battle in Liberio and his reticence at following direct orders to kill Eren, but at the same time, the obsession with “repaying the lives of the dead” is making him being absolutely heartless for the sake of his “hope” (like, I’m paraphrasing here but he literally went “let’s go to war again and let Historia become a shifter if she so wants to, who cares, more deaths, yay”), though he himself doesn’t seem to care about hope and freedom and all this stuff that much anymore, or he would’ve spoken up about the mess Paradis and Hange were throwing themselves into, like Eren did.

Another point of dissatisfaction is that it seemed to me like he was forming stronger bonds with the 104th and he was becoming better at voicing his opinions without becoming violent, but I guess he either regressed, or I always read him wrong. His violence in 114 was downright revolting to me, I felt nauseous and, in a way, I’m glad he got k.o’ed. It put a stop to his metaphorical downfall, at least — I see post-timeskip Levi as a cheapened, worsened, “hyperfocused-on-just-one-side-of-him” version of the Levi I used to love in earlier arcs and he was only getting worse, imo.

And, as a special mention re: his violence and his relationship with Eren… It was interesting to observe how he slowly changed in regards to Eren, learning how to lift him up and get the best out of and for him, caring about and paying attention to Eren’s emotional state when no one could or would. It was also very interesting how he opened up to Eren just because he wanted to help him, always, from the beginning. THAT’S what really made me fall for the ship and for Levi.

Also, he thought that violence wasn’t the answer with Eren, and I guess I can excuse him for his behavior in Shiganshina because it was a charged challenge of sort for every character. But he really did think that nobody could make Eren submit with violence, yet he’s the one who tried to do exactly that as soon as they met again in ch.105. I was so disappointed that their relationship seemed to have regressed so much, I kept being hopeful only because of his face/words after the kick: he felt betrayed and saddened by Eren, so it meant he still cared deeply about him. And yeah, he does, but the reasons are also partially…bad. 

Don’t get me wrong, I believe he cares about Eren as a person, the boy he met and decided to protect all those years ago, but now saving Eren has become deeply intertwined with saving his last remaining goal: making it up to the dead soldiers (and I’ve already explained why I think it’s not a “positive” goal). And it’s unfair and a skewed view, imo, because Eren really didn’t have much to do with every single death. But I think it’s Levi being desperate about it all, he clings to it or he’d lose it if he had to, um, reconsider his current mindset. He’s like…grasping at straws, I feel. Like he was doing with Erwin when Erwin revealed his true colors. Levi ended up reconsidering his own ideals and goals, back then, but in a bad way (he had no goals of his own, he just blindly followed Erwin, who cares about humanity, right? Even though he seemed to care oh so much before).

I guess it’s the downfall of the “Hero”. @/Isayama, was this necessary? Is this entertaining? I am personally not a fan of this, there were so many ways to challenge Levi’s belief & trust in Eren, and to still have Levi be an active player. This just feels like a cheap way to get him out of the picture and turn him into a really secondary character. He doesn’t feel like a main player in this arc.

So long story short, I’m very disappointed in his development. I was willing to go along with it in the hopes that it would be leading us to something very interesting and it seemed it could go into a good direction as I stated here. But when he seemed to be confirmed basically dead (literally, or anyway when it comes to his importance in current events), I’ve kind of lost all hope in regards to his character, and I felt so done about it. He is either gonna stay this way, or there’s gonna be some small, cheap, background-ish closure (though atm I fail to see how, seeing as the story is about to end) and if that’s the case, I fail to comprehend the purpose of his arc, then. I don’t think his is an unreasonable development, I just fail to see how the direction Isayama has decided to “develop” him in has any relevance to the story and its themes, as he used to be a major player with some good-ass, relevant presence in the story. As I said in some posts I linked above, Isayama may have lost motivation to develop Levi any further and dropped it from the “main players” roaster, probably when he decided to change Levi’s motivations halfway through the story (because yes, the problems I have with Levi started towards the end of Uprising).

I used to be a great Levi fan, if my username and icon are anything to go by, and I still like him when I reread some parts as I stated elsewhere, because I really, really love when he interacts with the 104th or like, with his subordinates or even Hange. It’s fun to watch and even cute, when he’s not being a violent arsehole. So it’s really a shame that it’s come to this.

And yeah, I’m sure some people may have noticed already, but the ereri content on my blog has become quite scarce, S3 and the shitfest that went down there in regards to Eren&Levi parts also dampened my hype for the ship, my dissatisfaction with Levi’s character and the way his interactions (or lack thereof) with Eren went recently just pissed me off. But I loved this ship for like 5 years, I’m attached to it, and I am capable of separating the good parts of it from the bad ones (though it’s become increasingly difficult). And most importantly, I still love the way their canon relationship was developed up until before the serum bowl. Almost nothing has happened with them since then, so that’s why I was still really hyped for the next 2 years, but recently, and with Levi’s return, I’ve just grown more frustrated and bored with it.

After all, I fell in love with the romantic fanon ship BECAUSE the canon relationship was so interesting, had potential, and seemed to be going some incredibly cool directions, as both the characters seemed to be similar, had the same goals and understood each other on a basic level. It turned out to be almost nothing in the end, but alas.

So, how can I ship them if I don’t like one of them?

I still like Levi, especially when I reread the early arcs. This doesn’t mean I have to accept the worst sides of him that have apparently taken over his whole personality. His violence ISN’T a flaw I - or anyone, imo - should accept. Snoring IS a flaw we can/have to accept if we love someone. Violence is something that must be overcome. My annoyance with people implying they are better fans because they accept and embrace and excuse him and his violence, compared to those who don’t like that, is also a factor in my frustration. Understanding why exactly he’s the way he is is part of being a fan of a character, wishing for him to become a better person and ultimately letting go of toxic (yeah) acquired behaviors, imo, is better than defending and hyping them up. Some people even LOVE and WISH that violence will be his downfall because it’s violence for the sake of avenging [redacted] so it’s sooo romantic. lmao, ok. And I won't even get started about the ones who SERIOUSLY say that adult characters don't need to change, because I'm gonna start laughing for 3 hours straight. Dudes, there's not an age where you stop changing. If you stop trying bettering yourself at age XX, then I already know you're a shitty adult irl, goodbye.

Anyways, back on track. As I said in another post I may have linked above, I thought his encounter and resolution with Kenny would have amounted to something in this regards, since Levi used violence to get acknowledgment and to feel like he was “worth” something, imo, but it was only a set up for serumbowl. Wasted chance.

And I get it that violence is the way he was taught to deal with things, but 20 years have passed since then and he had a whole character arc in Uprising about opening up, trusting, feeling trusted in return, and feeling good and grateful and happy about that BECAUSE he was open with his squad and learned that it was better to use words rather than fists. So I thought he had grown out of it at least a bit. But I mean, there are other characters who have regressed or haven’t changed at all after their supposed character arc, and that dampened to a great degree the enjoyment of such characters for me (Historia, Ymir, Reiner), so whatever I guess? I can definitely see it’s something of a “cruel” way of storytelling Isayama really seems to like, maybe because he wants the characters to suffer. I guess you can’t have a story if all of your characters become better people and overcome their flaws…well, actually you can, but I guess Isayama doesn’t want this to be that kind of story.

But anyway, just to be clear, it also ties in with wanting the characters you love to better themselves and let go of things that ruin their lives or that have roots in trauma. Wouldn’t you want that for someone you love, even and especially in real life? So, if his violent tendencies have been portrayed as “wrong”, Bad Coping Mechanisms, and rooted in childhood trauma, why is it so frowned upon in this goddamn fandom to wish for him to let go of them, since it’s something that has caused him and characters around him pain or distress or downright failure. Overcoming these flaws would mean he’d feel better about himself, and others, and his past, etc. Why is it SO wrong to wish him the best? Lmao, I don’t get it.

So when his “real fans” be like “Levi’s violence is a part of him, you don’t love him for real if you can’t accept that part. anyway he’s perfect the way he is”, I’m like…that’s actually bullshit. I just want him to be a better person, just like I wanted to be a better person when I had detrimental (for me and for the people close to me) behaviors due to mental health stuff.

It’s not even on the same level of wanting him to stop being rude, that’s part of his charm. Violence…is not a cool personality trait, and it’s something you should want him to get over.

–

I still love lots of things that were shown in the manga in regards to Eren and Levi, so I don’t get why I should justify myself for liking them together just because I don’t like some parts of one of them. I still think some of Levi’s best personality traits came out when he interacted with Eren, and I like the Levi who cares about Eren the most. Hence why I ship the goddamn ship. That’s all there is to it, really. Here I talked about what I loved about their relationship, though now I feel like a bit of a hopeful fool.

Day Six: Flutter

A/N: Well, here’s my submission for Day Six of Naegiri Week 2019.  It takes place immediately after my previous fic “Komaru Alive!  Makoto Lashes Out!”, so I recommend reading that first for context.  You can find it on Fanfiction.net or AO3; my username is "WiiFan2009".  This is also my first time trying to write a fic from an entirely first-person perspective, so I’m not sure I did the best job on this one.  Any reviews and comments on either of those two sites regarding the quality of this chapter would be very much appreciated.  Enjoy!

Day Six: Flutter

The Ultimate Detective and The Ultimate Hope Gaiden: Twin Fluttering Reflections

I watched him leave my room to go to sleep across the hall.  Finding the energy to stand on my own two feet again, I went to my closet to pull out a nightgown.  Unlike my usual lavender wardrobe, this one was emerald green.  As I removed my business suit and pulled the nightgown over my head, my thoughts wandered to the boy whose eyes it matched, my heart fluttering as I smiled.

“Why?  Why does my heart flutter when I’m near you?  Why were you able to break down the walls I erected to protect myself?  Why is your smile able to light up a room, even during a time as awful as the Tragedy?” 

My smile fades as I think back to the three most miserable times in my life; when I purposely ignored him for keeping a secret from me, when I sentenced him to die in that utter sham of a trial, and today, when he told me he hated me after we found out his sister was alive in Towa City with only Toko to protect her.   More tears leak from my eyes as I become filled with guilt and shame.

“Why?  Why does my fluttering heart plummet like rock candy when we argue?  Why do I feel like an utter failure whenever you’re mad?  Why do I feel inadequate whenever my cold personality fails to be the emotional support you need and deserve?”

I crawl into bed, my heart fluttering at the memory of every time we make up.  I remember the warmth I felt when we hugged each other in comfort.  I recall the soothing, content feeling that spreads throughout my body whenever I’ve comforted him after his nightmares and embraced him in slumber to protect him from his demons.

There’s no mistaking how I feel; the butterflies that keep fluttering in my stomach whenever I think of him can’t be explained any other way.  You’d think that my next course of action would be clear, especially taking into account that we dated in another life.  But my courage hasn’t caught up with my brain, so I nestle my head on the pillow, imagining him hugging me and rubbing my back, confessing my feelings only in the privacy of my room for now.

“I love you, Makoto Naegi.  I love you so much.  You make my heart flutter so high…”

XXX

I entered my room, closing the door behind me.  Despite our talk earlier, despite how hearing her forgiveness made my heart flutter, I still felt deeply ashamed for how I blew up at her today.  I grabbed a pair of lavender footsie pajamas and boxers before heading towards the bathroom.

“Maybe a shower will calm me down.”

Disrobing, I turned the faucet until gentle needles of warm water shot out of the shower head.  Placing my change of clothes on the counter, I stepped in, lathering my body with soap and cherry blossom-scented shampoo.  It’s not lost on me that I’m using hair product that happens to have the same scent as the flowers I gave her during Junko’s Killing Game.  I’d be too embarrassed to say it to her face, but being coated in a scent that reminds me of her helps to keep my peace of mind, as well as some degree of happiness in this world of despair where I’ve lost almost everything.  As I let the water wash away the suds and coat my body in the shampoo’s aroma that makes me imagine that she’s embracing me and holding me close, I feel my heart flutter; I can’t help but think of her.

“Why?  Why does my heart flutter when I’m near you?  Why were your expectations of me so high?  Why did you always lend me a helping hand whenever I needed it?  Why did you decide to be my friend?”

The water growing cold, I shut off the knob, letting the now chilly water drip off of me before I grab one of the nearby towels, attempting to dry myself off as my mind wanders to places that made me shiver as much as the chilly water.

“Why?  Why do I tend to shoot myself in the foot in front of you?  Why do I lash out at you whenever I’ve reached my emotional limit?  Why do I feel so cold whenever you’re not around?”

I’m as warm as I can possibly get from the friction, so I hung the towel back on the rack, slipping on my boxers before smoothly sliding in my fuzzy footsie pajamas and zipping them up.  Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I can’t help but smile at the thought of how my pajamas match her eyes.  Shaking my head as my heart starts to flutter again, I walked out of the bathroom and over to my bed, laying down on it as I can’t help but continue to think about her.

I recall our brief but blossoming relationship prior to losing our memories.  I remember how she always seems to giggle at my embarrassing antics.  I look back on how she kept saving my life, from Sayaka’s murder trial to protecting me from getting stabbed by Junko to helping me escape from the garbage pit after Junko tried to crush me to death.

Shivering at the memory of waking up from nightmares of my execution, I rub at my torso, longing for the warmth her arms and her presence provide whenever I have a bad dream.  I blush as I remember how she always embraced me and whispered soft reassurances in my ear whenever I felt terrified and overcome.  My face turns red with embarrassment as I remember how we fell asleep together more than once after she lulled me into slumber by stroking my hair, only for my embarrassment to give way to joy and calm after I realize that I happily slept like a baby.

I look at the time and realize that it’s way past my normal bedtime.  Part of me wants to go back to her room, to knock on her door and admit how much I want to be held in her warm embrace that makes my heart flutter and lulls me to sleep.  But my guilt and shame make me reluctantly reject the idea, so I slide under the blankets, and slowly slip into slumber.  As I start to think that it’s cold without her, a realization slips through my lips as I drift off.

“I think I love you, Kyoko Kirigiri.  Is that why my heart flutters when I think of you?”

Goodbye Pt. 2 - TWDG Oneshot

Description: After waking up in Ericson’s, Clementine must rush to Lee’s aid before it’s too late.

Wordcount: 3590

As always, reblogs and comments are more than appreciated. And if you like this story, consider checking out my other works on Ao3 or Wattpad under the username GoofyGomez. Enjoy!

---

The forest was eerily quiet in the early night. A few crickets made appearances around them, but they went silent when Clem and the rest passed them. Darkness was beginning to fall and the only remaining source of light was the moon shining down on them. Louis and Aasim led the way head of Clem and AJ, who followed diligently.

Hold on, Lee, she thought to herself. By her estimate, they had walked for about forty minutes. The plants around them and the path before them had barely changed, however. Even as they moved, she was getting restless. Did these kids even know where they were going?

“You guys sure we’re on the right track?” Clem asked hesitantly, hoping she didn’t sound rude. The last thing she needed was for Aasim and Louis to get offended and leave them in the middle of the woods.

“Yeah,” Aasim said over his shoulder. “The train station you guys were in is about two hours away, outside our safe zone.”

“Two hours?” Clem exclaimed, picking up her pace to be on par with Aasim. AJ followed close behind, fidgeting with his revolver in his hands. “We still have one hour to go?”

Louis looked to his right, giving Clem an apologetic sort of look. She noticed his forehead crease as he frowned, and the way his dimples deepened as he gave her a sad smile.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “I’m sure your old man can take care of himself pretty good.”

“Hope so…” Clem said, trailing off. She hung back, choosing solitude over walking beside their guides.

As thankful as she was to them for offering their help, it had been their own fault they were in this mess in the first place. What had Marlon meant with “He’s an adult.”? Had they seen Lee and purposely left him to the walkers? No, Lee’s a survivor, he can handle himself.

They kept a steady pace through the trailing path. Most of it was marked by months, if not years of people walking it. At some point, however, the ground became as treacherous as the rest of the forest, and they were left with nothing but their wits to figure out the way.

“Should be a few more miles north,” Aasim commented, pointing slightly to their left.

“How do you know where north is?” AJ asked from beside Clem.

“I look at the stars,” he said, gesturing to the star-strewn sky. Indeed, a million dots of shining balls of light illuminated the sky. Some, Clem noticed, were brighter than others, yet she had never learned to read the skies as she knew sailors had once done. Mostly, she trusted her gut to tell her where to go. It had not failed her yet.

“See that bright one over there?” Aasim said, pointing to a particularly fiery-looking star almost directly above them. “That’s the North Star, which means north is that way.”

“That’s so cool,” AJ said, gazing up at the sky in wonderment. “How come you never taught me that?” he asked Clem, raising an eyebrow.

She shrugged, choosing the truth. “I didn’t know that either,” she said.

“Huh.”

“I learned about it a couple years ago,” Aasim said, eager to talk about anything to get Lee’s possible fate out of Clem’s mind. “Our school has a library chock full of books on all sorts of stuff.”

“Aasim here is a bit of nerd,” Louis translated. AJ chuckled and Clem had to suppress a grin.

“Shut up,” Aasim said, rolling his eyes. “Just because all you read about is musical theory doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t want to learn some new skills.”

“Musical ability is not something you can learn,” Louis said in a dignified, yet playful manner. “You’re born with it.”

“Whatever.”

“You play an instrument?” Clem said, thankful for Aasim’s attempt to veer the conversation away from heavier topics.

“The piano,” he said joyfully. “We got one in the admin building; right next to that place the little dude was gonna gun us down.”

“I’m sorry about that,” AJ said, scratching the back of his head.

“No need to apologize, little man,” Louis assured him, shaking his head. “If I were you, I probably would have done the same.”

Clem found it hard not to notice the small mannerisms Louis had when presenting himself. It was so unlike anyone she’d ever met, yet intriguing nonetheless. His eyes were almost constantly aglow, dark brown like AJ’s. He used his hands a lot, waving them around every which way so as to express himself more visually. It really was an interesting sight, Clem thought.

“What’s a piano?” AJ asked.

Louis feigned hurt, clutching his heart. “I’m wounded that you’d ask that,” he said dramatically.

“Sorry?” AJ said hesitantly, tilting his head.

“It’s an instrument,” Louis explained. “You have keys, and you press them to make music.”

“Huh, music,” AJ mused to himself.

In truth, Clem hadn’t really gone into detail about music to AJ. She didn’t think it was that important right now when surviving was the only thing on her mind. Lee had told them about a few bands he had listened to in his youth, but neither Clem nor AJ could relate to him, so they learned to tune it out after a while.

They fell silent after that. Around them, the scuttling of animals was the only sound they could hear. An owl hooted and flew off somewhere to Clem’s right, and the rustle of the leaves sounded eerie in the dead in night. Dry autumn leaves crunched under their boots, much too loud for Clem’s liking.

For another hour they walked, heavy thoughts weighing on Clem’s mind. Unable to will them away, she shut her eyes and shook her head. He had to be okay, he just had to. She shared a look with AJ, who walked on her left, and gave him a sad smile.

Before she could ask how much longer they had, Aasim raised his hand and halted to a stop. The rest followed suit, hunching slightly as if poised for attack. Clem looked around, searching for the train cars or any trace of their car. She saw a glint of rusted silver somewhere to their right.

“The car, was it totaled?” she asked Aasim, who nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Damn it.”

Aasim sneaked forward through a thicket of bushes, which opened up into a small clearing beside one of the trains. They hid behind a rock, surveying the area.

Dozens of walkers roamed the hallway that led to the station. Their moans and groans created a cacophony of sounds that made Clementine shiver, even though it was rather warm tonight. On the road leading away from the train cars, she saw tire tracks, skidding around until they disappeared behind a bend in the road.

“Where could he be?” Clem asked, unable to contain the fear in her voice. “I don’t see any trace of him.”

“If he’s smart, he’s probably holed up in that station,” Aasim said, pointing. “I doubt the walkers can get through that door, but I can’t say the same for the windows.”

“Thanks for that helpful commentary, Aasim,” Louis said, stepping forward. “Look, we just gotta get through the smelly patrol here and we’re golden.”

“Any idea on how to do that?” Aasim said, clearly irritated.

“Let me check it out,” Clem interjected. She feared more bickering would accomplish nothing, so she had to step in.

She raised herself a bit so as to see the area better. The walkers seemed to have no defined pattern, moving aimlessly around, sometimes hitting the fence and choosing a different path. She noticed some of them seemed to push other walkers around as if annoyed they were moving so slowly. That’s odd, she thought. She’d never seen walkers behave this way.

On the fence was the sign and bell she and Lee had seen before going in, a small string attached to it. Could be useful, she thought, taking a mental note of it. The train car on the left seemed to be tilted to the side, low enough to climb yet not so low that walkers could easily swarm it. Promising.

Formulating a plan, she turned back to the others. AJ listened avidly, kneeling like he always did, with his gun in his right hand. She relayed the plan to Aasim and Louis, both of whom cringed when she suggested attracting the walkers to one of them. Once she was done, she waited for a response.

“That’s all?” Louis said hesitantly, likely afraid that Clem would say no. “Doesn’t sound so bad.”

“You going up there, then?” Aasim said almost instantly, gripping his bow tightly. “You’re already pretty distracting even without a bell in your hands.”

“No way, José,” Louis said, shaking his head. “What about you, with that bow of yours?”

“You can do it, Louis,” Clem said, willing herself not to smile. “Let’s see those moves in action.”

Louis sighed, looking over Clem’s shoulder over to the swarm of walkers. “I can’t say no to a face like that,” he said finally, winking. A rather unfamiliar heat rose to Clem’s cheeks, and she averted her eyes. Aasim, on the other hand, rolled his eyes so far that they almost seemed to leave his skull.

And so, Louis and the rest approached the fence, being careful to make as little noise as they could. Louis untied the bell from the post and made sure to have it close to his chest, lest he put the plan in motion too early. He looked up to the train car. The moon shone over it, as though pointing him in the direction of his target.

“Okay, repeat the plan,” Louis said, turning to Clem.

“Climb the car, ring the bell as loud as you can, and wait for us to cross,” Clem said. “Once we’re inside, you’ll be able to keep watch from there.”

“Climb, ring, wait, watch,” Louis repeated, nodding. “Got it.”

“Good luck, man,” Aasim said, patting the dreaded boy’s shoulder.

“Thanks.” And with that, Louis disappeared behind the train car.

Clem, Aasim, and AJ waited expectantly. The walkers kept up their moaning, searching for more prey. A few moments later, they heard a loud bang as Louis rung the bell, hitting it both with a rock and against the top of the car. Most of the corpses turned their attention to him, reaching up for him. They crowded around the train car, banging on the side. This brought more of them to their aid.

Clem saw the window and made a break for it, sneaking past them as fast as she possibly could. One of the monsters seemed to have gotten stuck under the train car on the right and she took care of it with ease. Aasim and AJ followed her behind a pair of barrels. She raised her arm and signaled to Louis, who seemed to have understood because the banging stopped almost immediately.

They waited with bated breath, Clem’s heart pounding hard. What the hell is he waiting for? Through the slits that were her eyes, she saw a few walkers start to turn around, their object of interest long gone.

“Come on, Louis,” she heard Aasim whisper under his breath. His eyes were closed as well.

Before Clem had lost all hope, a sudden ringing caught the walkers’ attention away from them, and they allowed themselves to breathe deeply. As the undead made their way deeper into the front yard of the station, Clem, Aasim, and AJ sneaked past yet another straggling walker, stabbed it, and rushed to the door.

She turned the knob slowly, her heart in her throat. It creaked softly as it opened, revealing the interior of the station. It was much like she’d last seen it, though a large amount of dust had been blown from its surfaces. Small slivers of moonlight seeped through the boarded-up windows, revealing dust particles floating around the walker couple still tied to the chairs.

Clem took a tentative step forward, afraid of what she might find. It seemed the room was empty aside from them, which felt both promising and ominous to her.

“I’ll guard the door,” Aasim said, peering through the gap between the door and the frame. “Check that room over there.”

He was pointing to the ticket booth Clem and AJ had found the supplies in; and which had caused this whole mess in the first place. She gestured for AJ to follow her, taking her knife from her back pocket. She brandished it in front of her. The large grey door was ajar, and inside was-

“Lee!” AJ exclaimed, rushing to the man. AJ threw his arms around Lee, gripping him tightly. Lee was lying against the crib, clutching his side with his other hand. His shirt was dripping with sweat and his pants had an alarming amount of blood soaking them.

“Hey, little man,” Lee said, his voice much too weak. “Sweet pea, you came back.”

“Of course we did,” she said, as though the thought of doing anything else would be crazy. “Now, are you hurt?”

Lee looked down at his leg. Blood was still oozing slowly from a wound.

“Hurt my leg pretty bad in that crash,” he said, pursing his lips. “Had to drag myself up here.”

Clem cringed as she looked at it, shaking her head. “Aasim will help you walk, try to get up.”

Lee looked up at her and the expression he held chilled Clem to her very soul. Unlike his usual smile or his fatherly frown, this face was one of defeat. It conveyed to Clem thoughts and emotions she didn’t think could be reconciled. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he shook his head.

“You guys should get out of here,” he said, almost in a whisper. AJ stood to his side, confused. Clem kneeled beside her father, in all ways but one, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“What are you talking about, Lee?” she asked, much more alarmed than she wished she was letting on.

“This is it for me here,” he said, sighing. “End of the road.”

“Lee…” Clem said, almost warningly. “Don’t play jokes on me; I hate it when you do that!”

“It’s not a joke, Clem,” he said, shaking his head.

Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward, with more effort than Clem thought he would have needed. With one hand, he pulled the cuff of his pants, revealing his bare calf. Beneath all the blood, Clem could clearly see the outline of teeth marks on flesh, a dark liquid oozing onto the floor.

The world came crumbling around Clementine, with no sign of stopping any time soon. She refused to believe her eyes, as damning as the evidence in front of them was. She had fought for Lee and AJ for far too long for her luck to have run out. No, it must be a trick of the light. But what light, though? Barely any moonlight reached them in here. Still, something is off.

“What…?” AJ said, his eyes widening as he took a step back. “No.”

“Yes, AJ,” said Lee sadly, looking down. “I’m sorry.”

Clem still couldn’t speak, stunned into silence. She kept looking at the bite on Lee’s leg, blinking rapidly. Her heart seemed to have taken the hint and started beating faster. Faster and faster it beat until she feared it would burst through her chest and onto Lee’s lap. Somehow, after this gruesome image, she found her voice again.

“No,” she finally managed to say. “No, no, no, no! You can’t be bit, you just can’t be.”

“But I am, sweet pea,” he said, taking her hand in his. She pulled away, tears welling in her eyes. They stung her, but she did no effort to dab at them. “I’m sorry I wasn’t fast enough.”

“Lee…” she croaked, trying to make sense of the jumble that was her thoughts. “You… you can’t do this to me.”

“You’ll be okay, Clementine,” he said, offering her a weak smile. “You’re strong. You both are.”

“I need you, Lee,” she said desperately. Her lower lip quivered as she mustered the courage not to launch herself over him. AJ seemed to have lost his voice, choosing instead to stare at the bite while he listened to them. “AJ and I need you. We’re a team, remember?”

“I know, I know, Clem.” Lee sighed, struggling to breathe as a fit of coughs took over him. “You’ll have to make do without me from now on.”

“We can cut it off!” she exclaimed, almost joyfully. “It’ll be just like that guy Reggie, right? Aasim and Louis can carry you out of here. It’ll be alright!”

Lee pursed his lips, looking up into Clem’s fiery gold eyes. The same eyes that had looked at him in fear and admiration and love and hatred and countless other emotions, now swelling with tears. Clem could almost hear Lee’s heartbeat, slowly dwindling as his final breath drew nearer. They had talked about this moment countless times, yet to actually be in it didn’t make it any easier to bear.

“It’s too late for that, honey,” he told her wisely, shaking his head. “It’s been hours, and I lost a bunch of blood already.”

“No, no, no, we can still fix this, Lee!” she said angrily, fumbling with the cuff of his pants and lifting it so his entire lower leg was visible now. Still more blood flowed from the wound, making Clem cringe once more.

“Clem,” Lee said, cutting her off. He knew how passionate she could get when he let her, but they had no time. “You know what to do.”

“NO!” she said, much too loudly. A few groans came from outside, but they seemed to be in the clear. Aasim had apparently stationed himself outside the door, guarding the building with his bow. “I… I can’t do it, Lee. Please don’t make me…”

“I understand,” he said, shaking his head. “No kid should have to do this sort of thing.”

Clem had stopped trying to hold back and was now sobbing, her tears falling freely onto the dusty floor, darkening the hardwood beneath the layer of dirt.

“Leave me,” she heard Lee whisper, and she willed herself to look up, unable and unwilling to believe her ears.

“What?” she whispered back, leaning in as if to catch it more clearly.

“Just go and leave me here,” he said, closing his eyes. “No need to waste ammo on me.”

“I can’t just… leave you to turn,” Clem said, still horrified by the alternative. “Not after everything we’ve seen; everything we’ve been through.”

“You are definitely the kindest soul I ever met,” Lee said fondly, lifting his arm as if to touch her cheek, yet lacking the strength to reach higher than her shoulder. “Too kind, even after the world went to shit.”

“Swear,” they heard AJ whisper, his voice as tiny as he was. Despite herself, Clem managed a laugh.

“There’s the sweet pea I know and love,” Lee said, smiling.

AJ reached over Lee and handed Clem his revolver, handle first. She took it shakily in her hands, feeling the weight that could only mean one thing: it was loaded. She looked from it to Lee, whose eyes, now yellowing, were glued to the weapon.

“You don’t have to watch this, AJ,” she said slowly, looking up at the boy. AJ seemed ready to argue, but Lee’s face said it all. Clem was right.

With a final hug for his father figure, AJ dragged himself out of the room and into the adjoining one, silently waiting by the door. Clem was left alone with Lee in the ticket booth, holding the revolver with shaky hands.

“You’re so strong, Clementine,” Lee said encouragingly. “Stronger than I ever was.”

“Not strong enough,” she said softly. Her hand coiled around the handle. “I couldn’t save you fast enough.”

“There’s nothing you could have done,” Lee said. Though his words were meant to be reassuring, they felt like poison to Clementine. If only I’d gotten here sooner… If only they hadn’t left you out here…

“I’m… I’m really gonna miss you, Lee,” she sobbed, closing her eyes and willing the tears to remain at bay. So far, she was not succeeding.

“I’ll miss you too, sweet pea.”

Clem stood up, her eyes glued to her friend and protector; the one who had given everything for her and AJ. She wanted to say something, anything, to express how thankful she was, for everything. But the words wouldn’t come. Her mind still ran a thousand miles a second, trying to make sense of it all, yet her hands knew what must be done.

She raised the revolver slowly, reveling in the final few seconds she would be able to share with Lee in life. Memories of their journey together flooded her mind, as though her brain was reminding her just how important this man had become to her. No need to remind me, she thought to herself, I remember just fine.

As her finger touched the cold trigger, Lee’s eyes closed and he let a shaky breath escape him. She pulled it sharply, just like he’d taught her on that train all those years ago, and Lee was gone.

At last, she thought, he’d be able to join Kenny and his family, while Clem carried on without him, ready to pick up the pieces of her broken heart.

A Second Chance 9/?

John Watson x Reader x Mycroft Holmes

Notes: Transfering my old fics from 2014 to here! This particular story splits off after chapter 10 to a John x Reader and Mycroft x Reader… kinda like a choose your own path thing.

As always if you can’t find the next chapter message me or check out my DeviantArt or Archive of Our Own under the same username.

You kept stealing glances at him, trying to not let your curiosity get the better of you as it would likely disturb the delicate peace between the two of you, and he noticed, of course. He felt like he knew you... how could he not? All those years sharing thoughts with each other, giving each other advice… he’d always considered the scribbler his friend, his only friend. He hadn’t known he needed friends until that distinctive scrawl had started appearing in his favorite books and after that, he wanted only one. He enjoyed the anonymity of it, there were no social niceties to worry about, no need to be concerned about the things that normally came with making friends, just simply one mind connecting to another in the purest of ways. 

That did mean he didn’t wonder what they -you- were like, he was curious of course, but with only your writing to go by he came up with little. From the way you wrote, you were very intelligent and well educated but your handwriting relayed that you were a little whimsical and more free-spirited than most, as it was ranged from scrawly to smooth but always had an old fashion and swirly look to it. He glanced at you now and decided that it suited you, though he would have never imagined that his scribbler would look or act like you did. He was balancing his options in his head- build a friendship with you based off of your shared literary past or let his old hatred continue to fester and remain estranged- when you gave a small huff and came to a stop, “Would you mind just standing still for a moment? It’s driving me absolutely mad to not have looked you over properly.” That sealed his decision- he was going to do his best to keep the one friend he had even if that one friend happened to be you. He turned and gave you a small smirk with a raised eyebrow as you put your hands on your hips and let your eyes wander over him, cautious but so curious you just couldn’t help yourself. He jumped slightly when your fingers reached out to graze the chain of his pocket watch as you tried in vain to stifle a soft giggle, causing him to give a small frown, “What?” You looked up at him innocently, snatching your hand back as a pink tint settled in on your cheeks, “I’ve never met anyone with a proper pocket watch before…” Your lips twitched up slightly as you returned your gaze to it, “I like it.” He gave a soft, surprised chuckle and your cheeks went from pink to red as you rubbed at your wrists, turning back towards your destination, “We can continue if you’d like.” He offered you his arm again and you timidly slipped your hand around it, your burst of confidence waning as your curiosity was satisfied. He considered what to say as carefully as your fingers pressed against his suit coat, and decided on something simple, “Do you always go barefoot?” You pursed your lips, trying to decode if he was genuine or not, and then nodded, “I do when I can… though in winter it’s too cold and Violet dislikes it when I bring in mud, so it’s not as often as I’d like.” “May I ask why?” You caught your lip between your teeth for a moment as you thought before answering, “I like the way the ground feels beneath my feet. It’s like…” You fumbled for words to explain it in a way he would understand, “It’s like… running your hands over a quality fabric, there as many different feels as there are different types, and it’s immensely satisfying to let your fingertips discover them all. The feel of grass or dirt… even mud beneath my feet is the same way.” Reaching the back door, you bounced forward to pull it open, letting him walk through before shutting it behind you and leaping down the steps. You paused a few footfalls away to wait for him to catch up and spun to a sight that made you tilt your head like a confused puppy. Mycroft was sitting on the top step, meticulously removing his shoes and socks, and, when he was done, set them neatly next to the door and stood to follow you. You gave a tiny bemused grin before having a troubling realization, reaching out a hand as you called, “Wait!” He froze and you hurried over, dropping to your knees on the step in front of him with your dress billowing out around you before gingerly cuffing his trousers so they wouldn’t drag on the ground. “There,” you proclaimed, “It would be a shame to ruin such a nice suit.” You leaned back and up to your feet, patting at the creases in your dress before offering him a hand and a flash of your teeth. You dropped it when you saw that he was giving you an odd look, lowering your head as you cringed slightly, “I’m sorry… Should I not have done that? I-I just thought-“ He watched as you hugged yourself, obviously expecting to be yelled at, and stepped forward to place a hand on your shoulder and a finger under your chin so you would look up at him, “Thank you. I hadn’t even considered that. Now I’d very much like to see your garden if you’ll allow it.” Teeth pulled to your lip again and he noted that it must be a habit that signified you were mulling things over in your head, before you gave him a concise nod and swished off towards your garden. He followed you closely, watching a grin spread across your face as you twirled through your little corner of the world to a smooth stone bench, dipping down on to it and offering him a tiny shy smile as you welcomed him to sit next to you with a pat. He did, wiggling his toes in the grass before letting out a short laugh, “I must say this feeling is… interesting.” The sound of your giggle was like music to his ears as you wiggled your own toes, “You should feel this when it's wet… nothing beats it on a hot summer’s day.” “I shall keep that in mind.” It was quiet for a moment and then you threw your arms out wide, “Well this is my garden… Is it safe to assume from your response before that you like it?” He gave you a gentle smile and gazed out over your domain, “I’ll admit- I have spent a fair amount of time out here over the years, I find it’s a good place to sort through my thoughts.” “Agreed,” you hummed contently, rocking back and forth as you gripped at the edge of the bench. He turned to ask you another question only to have the wind stolen from his sails as a cry rang out from the outer edge of the area, “(F/n)!” He exhaled forcefully in frustration as you bounced up to greet Sherlock and John, tossing yourself into Sherlock’s arms so he had no other option but to catch you. He chuckled and spun you before setting you down and placing a purposeful, if false, frown on his face, “You know I hate it when you do that.” Waving him off you turned to John, taking his hands in yours, “Did you enjoy the grounds?” He twirled you, making you giggle happily, “I did. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful... and the grounds were nice too.” You blushed a deep red and gave his shoulder a playful slap as Sherlock pointed out, “You still haven’t seen (F/n)’s garden.” John offered you a grin, “Would you show me (F/n)? Sherlock says you know it best.” The taller man rolled his eyes, “Obviously. She tends to it after all.” You gave him a shove before taking up John’s hand to tug him into your space, “I’d be delighted to show you. I was just showing Mycroft as well.” Sherlock raised an eyebrow in surprise, seeking out his brother who was still sitting on the bench, his lips pursed unhappily, and tilted his head in curiosity. He’d only been gone for a short while yet it seemed quite a bit had changed. You pulled John around, both of you giggling like children as you pointed out your favorite plants, and Sherlock went to sit with his brother.   “Not a word,” Mycroft murmured darkly when Sherlock bemusedly glanced at his bare feet before returning his gaze to you, “You seem to be getting on well.” Neither of their eyes left you as he simply responded, “I may have misjudged her.” Sherlock’s jaw set, “Be sure, brother dearest. I will not have you hurting her again.” Mycroft was about to respond when you screeched to a halt in front of them, “Moth-Violet said I should bring you back for Afternoon tea if I found you.” Sherlock sighed, “I think we can keep John from her for a few minutes longer.” You gave your new friend an apologetic smile as you ducked your head, “That would probably be best.” Mycroft raised a curious eyebrow and Sherlock offered, “It would seem Mother has decided John a good match for (F/n). You know how she is.” The older man gave a pursed lip frown, “Indeed.”   “Neither of us is likely to get any peace… “ you sighed, shaking your head. Within seconds, there was a grin playing on your lips again as you let go of John to take up Mycroft’s hands in yours, pulling him up, “Is there anything you’d like me to show you Mycroft? I apologize for getting a little bit distracted by John.”   “I’ve always wondered about that plant over there,” he offered, allowing you to take his arm again as he moved toward it. John watched you chatter away to Mycroft about the plant he’d indicated as you walked with him, sinking down next to Sherlock, “Do you think his sudden change of heart is genuine? It is Mycroft, he could be playing at something.” Sherlock's lips twitched unhappily, “I wish I knew John… If anything at least Mother will be happy.”

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Ubi sunt qui ante nos fuerunt? (Chapter 16: Ophidia in herba)

Chapter masterpost

Chapter words: 2.6k

Overall words: 41.2k

Read it on ao3!

Trigger warning: Self-harm.

======

“When your lease was coming to an end and Cornelia's friend couldn't figure out a way to get you released without Phil's testimony, we had to make the decision. Though your channels were still earning you money, and with all the income from the tours, it felt like it would be a waste of money to keep paying the rent since you'd need the funds once things would settle,” Martyn, fingertips pressed together beneath his chin, explained, seated in the chair while Dan cradled Phil's sleeping form close on the narrow bed. “And the landlord wasn't very keen on the idea of extending the lease either, after the police had nearly knocked down two doors in one night and then roaming around so much and disturbing the peace of the other tenants repeatedly.”

“Why not ask me? Or at least tell me about it?” Dan asked quietly, his thumb rubbing slow circles on Phil's arm, his eyes avoiding to look at Martyn, finding it easier to merely hear the information, instead of seeing the lips pronounce it.

“I think you know why, Dan,” Martyn answered, just as quietly and the silence set between the two men, heavy but not hostile. It was full of thoughts and unspoken questions and answers that both of them knew well already.

Finally, Dan sighed, staring at his knee, oddly balanced a little over Phil's legs that had tangled into the blanket “And all of our stuff?” Though he wasn't happy with the news, far from it (He'd never quite expected to find himself homeless like this, not after everything had been going uphill with their careers the previous year), it was a welcome distraction to try and sort out now. Something to focus on and what would allow him to feel like he was actually working towards fixing this mess.

It was enough that he had a purpose again, and with Phil close to his heart and so fragile, he had suddenly found a renowned strength to keep himself together. Physically though, his body was struggling - his heartbeat was uneven and the neck was aching from the poorly slept nights and the horrors that his mind had been conjuring so easily. The flashes of fright came in waves when something seemed even remotely hostile, remotely similar to what had happened in those long months though he had thought it to having become a welcome part of his life.

“We've stored most of it at a rental storage,” Dan nodded, and smiled a little, only a serene feeling in the little bow of lips.

Here they had been musing out loud about a bigger storage space, about the possibility of moving. Now life had forced them to take the step, and Dan was sure that all the places that they had been looking at before were long gone and out of their reach now.

He sighed and raised his eyes enough to look at Phil who's sleeping face was smushed into the the wrinkly hoodie that Dan hadn't really changed ever since he'd gotten it after his mum had coaxed him into taking a shower and changing few days after his release.

“Also - this,” Dan looked over when he heard Martyn shift and suddenly he saw his phone, handed back to him. Though he'd longed for this easy connection for months, Dan had completely forgotten of it in the delirious state post-trial.

“Thanks,” He took the rectangular object and watched as the screen lit up with the familiar screensaver and the digits of time, and the date.

“But Dan,” Martyn drew his attention in again and Dan simply pocketed the phone without unlocking it “Don't let the things you see get to you. The past months, especially after the news release, a lot of people have had a lot of opinions, and they have been very keen on expressing them.”

Teeth dug into the chapped lower lip and Dan nodded. At an idle moment he'd thought of what had come of their audience, friends, and colleagues. Now that he had a power to find out though, he understood how much he didn't want to know.

He was afraid of the what he wound find.

Dan understood though, he couldn't stay quiet forever. Now more than ever he was aware of how the world worked and he knew that the news of his release had probably travelled the globe in the places where they mattered in one way or another.

“And a few people have been trying to reach you, but you'll see that in the call logs and messages,” To that, Dan just hummed a nod, wrapping his arms around Phil again.

“So where do we go now?” After a silent moment in which he could only hear the hospital chatter behind the closed door, Dan asked.

“We've been looking into it already and there are a few options. For now however, you need to rest, Dan. I'm not trying to nanny you,” Martyn added when Dan opened his mouth to protest “But you will exhaust yourself and right now we desperately need to get you back on your feet to settle everything that's been piling up.”

Martyn looked down at Phil and Dan followed suit after noticing the slight crease in Martyn's forehead. It seemed like life liked to draw lasting lines on everyone's faces these days.

“As much as Phil's used to be in charge of half of the paperwork, he's in no condition right now to handle any. He was pushing himself so much to ensure that the trial goes through as soon as possible.” As if noticing the guilt begin to bud in Dan again, Martyn interjected quickly “He wouldn't have gotten any rest until you would walk free, so this is for the best.”

Dan pressed his lips together at that, trying to accept the words as the truth.

“He needs to focus on getting well now, so we can't push any work on him. On the contrary, we need to keep him away from it.”

Dan nodded again, heaving another sigh, and the tiredness was evident in the heat of his breath and the way his heart felt weird in his chest, pumping with a struggling feeling of far too many hours spent awake and poorly rested.

======

Leaving Phil behind felt like a mistake. As soon as Dan had exited the hospital, everything about him was screeching to go back, to take that seat again and be prepared to hold Phil once more if necessary. To be by his side and do what he hadn't been doing for such a long time.

The cab never paused though, and before Dan knew he was well on his way to Martyn's apartment.

As the world zoomed by, it looked too peaceful and unchanged. Only the seasons had rolled over from spring to summer and all the way to autumn, the leaves on the trees yellowing already. It was a familiar sense of meaninglessness that he'd successfully branded as an existential crisis over the years. Only now, he actually saw it, and understood on a level that he had never before.

Life had moved on, with or without Dan and Phil and all of their achievements. All of their work seemed to have been for naught.

It made him wonder, like many nights before in his years; did he really matter on any scale? Was the work that he did anything important? Was the grand scheme of things for him to merely exist as a piece of grain in the infinite and endless vortex of the universe?

“Try to sleep, okay?” Cornelia was unchangingly gentle, like she'd always be whenever something wasn't quite right. And things had really gone to shit.

It was a softness Dan appreciated; it was safe, emphatic. It almost made things feel alright.

He couldn't sleep.

Though his body was exhausted, his mind was a raging storm and he kept tossing and turning hours after he had been left alone, huddled with the blanket and a phone on the bed besides his pillow. In the darkness of the room he felt uneasy, and the warmth of a home was something that he was still taking time to get familiar with in his gut.

He was free and he could do as he pleased again, and it was something that he couldn't fully grasp just yet.

Because this freedom came with responsibilities that had previously been forcefully removed from him, too.

His phone screen lit up expectantly when he pressed down on the home button and for a while he stared at the nondescript background until the light went out again and he was left in the darkness with his eyes stinging.

“Take your time,” Martyn's voice rang in his memory “There's no coordinated update to do, no timing, just let them know when you feel like it's time to do so and when you think you can handle the response.”

He clicked the home button again, but this time he didn't let the light to turn off and instead he  finally tapped the screen, unlocking it. The familiar smooth movement of apps appearing and the more personal background was in front of him, and he stared for a while, remembering of the last time he'd used the device and how the random games and little notifications were scattered across the screen in the same manner still.

Like nothing had changed.

Like whether or not he and Phil existed didn't matter. He knew it was dumb to think about a phone not caring, but it was one of the many reminders of how the universe was so huge, so uncaring.

He kept scrolling, slowly, through the screens of apps, eyes trailing over the bright colours and lingering on the twitter blue and the messages in the corner. His heart was beating too loudly in the silence of the room, and he paused, uncertain, finger hovering over the twitter icon for a brief moment of hesitation before he finally tapped on it.

It was strange, the feeling, when the world opened up to him through 140 character posts, icons, and weird usernames. Dan stared at the first few - an update of some news twitter he had followed back in the day and the one from BBC. His chest tightened, and the words blurred in front of his vision with the realisation setting in. That his freedom was there, that he had the access to all the same things again and had the influence as one of the crowd once more.

When the screen went black again, he dropped the phone on the bed and curled up in the blanket, bunching it close to his chest in the manner he was used to, wrapping a corner around his head. His eyes were shut tightly, his breaths were short, hot, but he tried to hold on to the peace and curiosity from before.

But he wasn't the same Dan from before, and he wasn't sure if he was capable of going back to that life again. It seemed like such a different life, one he was never allowed to return to. Where he and Phil would just lounge on the sofa, either silently, or sharing a joke, sometimes even planning new videos. Where life seemed almost careless though it still could be stressful and dark at times.

The lack of oxygen was suffocating, but also relieving, and he curled up more, his back cold where the blanket wasn't enough and had rode up, but he couldn't find it in himself to change that, and he let the light shiver ran down his back. Instead he curled in on himself, and allowed the mixture of tiredness and no air to slowly take over him.

His heartbeat was slowing down. His thoughts were becoming fuzzier. His limbs finally released the tension just enough.

Reality was exchanged with nightmarish sleep.

Everything was warping in a way that made him sick, and the air was full of hostile noise. The images weren't clear in front of him, but he drew some peace in that distortion, though they made his stomach turn uncomfortably.

His skin was hot, uncomfortable, and he felt like getting it off. Nails dug into the flesh, and he pulled, pulled, but the feeling wouldn't go away. Water poured down his face, and it took a while to understand that it was his own sweat, his body evaporating slowly but steadily.

His joints were aching, with the low, dragging feeling that would easily allow him to move still but which inevitably was draining the body ten times quicker.

Something cold startled him awake.

The rough texture of a wet towel was pressed against his forehead, wiping away the heat and the sweat. It replaced them with the cool water droplets that tried to pool around his eyes only to trickle down the sides of his face, unnoticed.

He opened his eyes but the world was spinning, so he shut them instantly, groaning weakly when the world would continue to warp, even quicker now.

He squirmed, and tried to turn, but his muscles screeched and he remained still though it made him feel absolutely uncomfortable. It was evident that someone was there, the coolness of the towel disappearing for a brief moment before it returned with a renowned coolness.

Slowly, slowly, the things seemed to become better. He would squirm, willing his limbs to start tossing around again, and then - relax. The coolness would leave only to arrive back repeatedly until it never did. There were moments that were warping and others where everything was too still. He found that he didn't feel like pulling off his skin anymore, but his body stung oddly.

It felt like a short moment had passed, but something in his limbs screamed much longer.

Dark eyes opened to the world again, and he stared for a while, breathing slowly, but the heat had disappeared for once. How much time had passed of him just staring up at the darkening ceiling without a single coherent thought inside his skull, Dan had no idea, but slowly the whirlpool subsided and he became aware of his surroundings.

His body felt spent and his arms, his chest, everything - hurt. His back felt too stiff against the covers and his face felt steamed.

Fingers twitched and the feeling coursed through the entirety of his being. He moved his toes, stretched his neck a little, a few pops ringing inside his skull when his spine cracked.

Slowly, he pushed himself to sit up, knees bent and head leaned forward so he could touch his face, but he stopped when he noticed the white bandages around his arms. They were wrapped with an extreme care; not too firm but not too loose, as if someone had been afraid to hurt him. His eyes trailed over the cover until he noted a long, red scratch mark, wide like his own fingernails but not deep enough to break the skin, stretching out from beneath the bandage, the irritated skin crawling up his arm and disappearing beneath the sleeve of his shirt, where other similar lines were sneaking from below.

And it was annoying.

He felt the temptation to pull the bandages off, because the cotton wrap felt suffocating, trapping, dehydrating.

It made him think back to the last visit to the prison's hospital.

It made him feel deformed.

The stinging increased when he touched fingers against the white cotton wrap and the feeling extended to his eyes, to his head and beyond to his heart once more. It made the fatigue spike again and his muscles were slow to comply.

He lied down, the covers against his skin not comfortable, and closed his eyes again. His arms settled on his stomach, hugging his body weakly once more like they had for days.

And there was a peace in his core where nothing mattered anymore.